Mystery Behind The Mask
by FantomPhan33
Summary: Forced into a marriage that neither one wants, Erik and Christine must learn to coexist and hopefully find the love they both long for. Yet can such a thing be achieved before Christine discovers the secrets of Summercrest and destroys everything Erik has worked so hard to conceal? A tale of mystery, intrigue and love. Set in 1830s England. Rated M for some adult themes - NOT SMUT
1. Chapter 1

**WELCOME! **

**Thank you for dropping in to check out my new story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. **

**A special HELLO to all my returning readers, I have truly missed hearing from each and every one of you!**

**A few warnings: This is rated M for adult theme and some violence. I will warn you when we get to _those_ chapters so you will not be caught by surprise. I have kept this story mostly smut-light, but don't worry, there is no shortage of romance in this story, I just kept it all in good taste...or at least I HOPE I did. ha ha.**

**In this story, Christine is a bit different than my feisty versions of her in past tales. She is more naive and uncertain about how to handle her new situation...at first. She will get the hang of it soon enough. Just be patient.**

**Due to copyright reasons, the name of our favorite Persian is Amir Dessan. He is also the same age as Erik and smoking hot!**

**A special thanks goes out to my wonderful beta PoE99, for all her excellent help and willingness to tell me the truth when something did not sound right. Also, to my pre-readers and mistake correctors: Bensara91513, KittyPimms and Butterflybird. You had your work cut out for you!**

**Now...on with the show!**

**.**

**Chapter 1**

**England 1835**

**.**

**.**

The clicking sound of Christine Daae's shoes echoed off the walls of the abbey as she nervously made her way down the hall towards Sister Margret's office. When one of the novices had come to the classroom to tell her that her presence was requested by the Reverend Mother, she had at first feared she was in some sort of trouble. Yet, when Christine was informed that her uncle was there to see her…that fear turned into utter dread.

Her Uncle Max, which was short for Maximillian, was her only living relative and the one who had sent her to live at the school run by the sisters. Since then, Christine had only seen her uncle three times over the past nine years and each time it had _not_ been a social call. Instead, his visits had been solely for the purpose of providing stacks of legal documents he demanded that she sign. All of which he had insisted were beyond her comprehension to understand. Yet, Christine was no fool. She knew exactly what the papers said and what it meant for her to place her signature on them. She was, in essence, signing away her future, giving her uncle legal control over more and more of her parents' fortune and her own dwindling inheritance. Yet what could she do? She was an underage orphan at the mercy of her uncle, and if he wished, he could have turned her out on her ear instead of funding her education at the abbey. Until she turned eighteen and could legally claim any money that might remain, Maximillian Daae could easily leave her to fend for herself. Christine's options were few - and more than likely, she would have been forced to beg on the streets…or worse.

So she gritted her teeth and did as her uncle instructed, setting her signature to each and every piece of paper he had put before her. Christine had never known just how wealthy her parents had been, but she could only imagine that her greedy uncle had long since squandered the bulk of their fortune. She would turn eighteen within the year and graduate from the school, forcing her out into a world she no longer understood, yet had always wished to be a part. It was true, she had felt safe while at the abbey, protected and sheltered since the tender age of eight. At the time Christine had needed that, for she had come under the care of the sisters as a broken child, in a near catatonic state after the brutal murder of her parents. The doctors had said her condition was from the trauma of having witnessed it, but the memory of that night seemed to be forever locked in her subconscious, unable to be recalled by her damaged mind.

However, those memories would come to her in flashes at night, flickers of the terror and pain that had ultimately left her alone. Each time she would see one more detail, one more instant of clarity that would cause her to wake up screaming, drenched in perspiration. If she had her way, she would never remember that night. Yet, while her heart wished for it, her mind had other ideas. And now, with another visit from her uncle, the young girl feared his presence would trigger another episode, leaving her in terror of the night that lay ahead.

As Christine neared the door to Sister Margret's office she could hear the stern woman's voice raised in anger. This was nothing new, for the sister was well-known for her exacting nature and temper. While she was feared by all the girls at the school, the sister had always been fair and was the closest thing to a mother-figure Christine could recall. Yet this time, the tone of her voice made Christine stop short. Something was wrong and she pressed her ear to the crack in the door, listening to what was being said before she dared make her presence known.

.

"Christine is still just a child!" Sister Margret shouted. "One on the cusp of womanhood, to be certain, but still just an innocent in so many ways. You cannot expect her to do such a thing, especially not against her will!"

"I am her legal guardian and she will do as I say!" Uncle Max insisted, his voice equally harsh and unyielding. "It is a perfect match, and she would be hard-pressed to find a more affluent or established husband than he."

_Husband?_ Christine's hand flew to her lips as she stifled a gasp of shock. Her uncle had betrothed her to some man without her knowledge? How could this be?

"A good match, you say? Well I say that a man of thirty-two taking a wife of seventeen is downright obscene!" the sister continued, not backing down. "This man is nearly twice her age! The very idea causes me to wonder what is so dreadfully wrong with him that he must obtain a wife by these means. Are there evils lurking in his past which have made him so undesirable that he would remain single until now? Would you expose your innocent niece to such horrors, that of a loveless marriage to a man she has never laid eyes on?"

"Arranged marriages are the custom in high society, _sister_," he told her, speaking her title as if it were a curse. "And while Christine might be an orphan and a timid little wall-flower, much in part to your mollycoddling, she is still from a well-respected and wealthy family and thus is expected to marry a man of the same station. Who would you see her wed to? Some pig farmer?"

"I had hoped she might choose to enter the convent, and dedicate herself to the service of the Lord," Sister Margret revealed.

Christine knew this was the sister's wish for all the young ladies at the school, an idea that was pushed quite frequently, yet this had never been _her_ desire. While she appreciated all that the sisters had done for her, both in her upbringing and education, she did not see herself remaining at the abbey for the rest of her life. Christine had no idea what she wanted to do, or what would become of her once she turned eighteen, but she had long ago decided that taking her vows was not it.

"Let me assure you, that fantasy of yours will _not_ be taking place," Max informed her with a slight scoff of derision.

Sister Margret urged. "Wouldn't it be only right to allow the girl to make up her own mind on the subject? To offer her a choice, since it is _her_ future at stake?"

"NO! She has been under your care long enough! She is much older than many young women who have long since married and the match has been made. She will leave with me immediately!" Max then took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself before continuing. "Your objections have been voiced as well as heard, yet they are of no concern to me. Now, will you produce my niece or must I search this facility myself in order to locate her? My time is valuable and I do not wish to be kept waiting any further!"

Christine knew that was her cue to enter, fearing her uncle's further rage should he be forced to seek her out like he threatened. So taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she knocked twice on the door, then pushed it open and peeked inside.

"You sent for me, Sister Margret?" she asked, her voice hardly above a whisper.

"Yes child, come in," the abbess replied; yet her voice did not sound pleased.

.

Maximillian Daae had never been a man of faith, and the nun's defiant attitude was certainly not endearing him towards any kind of religion. He had come here to retrieve his niece, a seemingly simple task, but instead, had been forced to endure a reprimand by the old bat! Every time he had come to the abbey he had left feeling upset and angry over the scathing looks and demeaning tone this woman had given him. He was extremely glad that this would, indeed, be their final encounter. With his offering Christine in marriage to the son of Lord Morant, Max would be sealing a deal that would make him rich - and that was exactly what he wanted to be. The money his older brother had left upon his death had been enough to keep him well off for a while but even with siphoning the money set aside for their only daughter, there never seemed to be enough. Too many business deals had fallen through, too many times wine and women had bled him dry and far too much of his fortune had been lost to an unlucky hand of cards. Until forcing his unsuspecting niece into an arranged marriage was now his only option to keep his desired lifestyle intact. He had always considered the troublesome girl a detriment to his dwindling fortune, but for once in her miserable life, Christine was about to do him a good turn.

Max turned to look at the girl who had just entered, setting eyes on her for the first time in over two years. He had meant to smile, to put on a pleasant face in order to deliver his obviously disturbing news, but the sight of her stopped him in his tracks. Where had the gangly, young child he had placed at this wretched school gone? For the girl that stood before him had indeed blossomed into a striking young woman. She had grown taller and her shape had filled out in quite a pleasing way. Her large blue eyes immediately drew attention to her delicate heart-shaped face and even Max had to admit that his little niece had become quite appealing. This idea might just work out better than he had planned.

His surprise must have been obvious, even to Sister Margret, for she pulled him from his thoughts with a loud clearing of her throat, continuing to speak with an accusing tone.

"Christine, your uncle here has expressed his wish that you leave the abbey with him…today," she told the frightened young girl.

"W-w-w-where will we be going?" she asked, looking up at her uncle with questioning eyes, though she already knew the dreadful answer.

"Christine, my darling girl," Max said, stepping forward in a false show of family affection. He quickly leaned forward and gave her an awkward embrace, not seeming to notice how she stiffened and did not reciprocate the hug. "I have found you a wonderful new home, my dear. A much better situation than you have become accustomed to here. Now, let me take a look at you," he told her as he stepped back and stared at her with a discerning eye. Reaching up he pulled off the little white bonnet all the students were required to wear, allowing her pent up curls to now fall across her shoulders and down her back in a wave of rich brown. This seemed to please him considerably but his smile was short lived when he noticed the unflattering grey dress she wore with the white bib-like apron over it. "Have you another dress to change into for the journey? Preferably something less…depressing?"

"No, Uncle," she informed him. "I have only one other dress and it is the same as this one." All the girls at the school were required to wear this drab color, supposedly to promote uniformity and discourage vanity. Christine however had long ago decided that it was simply to rob them of their individuality and joy. She had lost count of the times she had wished for a simple pink ribbon or a flashy red pair of stockings. Yet such things would have certainly been confiscated immediately, with severe punishment quickly to follow.

"No matter I suppose. It will have to do, for there is no time to stop and purchase something different," Max said with a sigh of resignation. "Go and gather your things, girl, and I will meet you outside by the carriage. Do _not_ keep me waiting!" With that, he gave a curt nod to the abbess and exited the room.

Christine was literally speechless, but her eyes spoke volumes as she turned to look at Sister Margret before her.

"I am sorry, Christine," she told the stunned girl. "I tried my best to dissuade him but your uncle has made up his mind. It would appear that your future is now set in stone and I fear there is no way to break it."

"I…I overheard what you two were saying before I came in," she admitted, lowering her head in shame over the sin of eavesdropping. "I am to be…married?" she questioned, hoping that she might have misunderstood.

"It appears that way, my child. To the son of a rich lord in the neighboring province." She walked over and ran her hands over the girl's hair, smoothing it out in a kindhearted gesture. "I told your uncle that you were still just a girl, too young to undertake such a burden, yet now I can see that perhaps I was wrong. You have, indeed, grown up right before my eyes. I only hope you will not find married life too terribly dreadful."

"I…I don't know how to be a wife," Christine almost sobbed, placing the back of her hand to her lips as a tear escaped her eyes. "I know nothing of marriage or what is expected of me…how will I know what to do?"

"Eve knew no more than you when she was first presented to Adam," she said, trying her best to comfort the distraught girl, while never having experienced this situation herself. "Just pray that he is the kind and gentle sort and do as he tells you. It is a woman's duty to be obedient to her husband and submit to his direction in all things. You will learn in time what it means to be a good wife and how to please your mate." Cradling Christine's face between the palms of her hands she kissed her on the forehead. "You have always been a very sweet and dutiful child, continue to be so and you will win his respect. In time, he may even come to have a measure of affection for you."

_Affection_…but never his love? Was a chance for that even possible when faced with an arranged marriage? Christine's mind was awhirl with so many questions and fears that all she wanted to do was run. Run away and never stop. But where would she go? The abbey was all she could remember and even though she did not wish to remain there forever, she had at least felt she had more time to decide where she would go next. Her life was quickly spinning out of control and she feared she would never regain the mastery over it.

"Come now, child. As much as I loathe the man, it would not be wise to keep your uncle waiting," Sister Margret consoled as she took Christine's shaking hand and headed for the dormitory rooms to pack her meager belongings.

.

.

Half an hour later, Christine watched through tear filled eyes as the abbey and the sisters disappeared into the distance while the carriage rambled down the country road. The old saying, '_you can never go home again'_ sprang to her mind, reminding her that even though she had never intended to stay at the abbey forever, it truly was the only home she could recall. When it was at last lost from view, she turned her eyes from the window and looked down at her lap. Besides the satchel with her few articles of clothing, her only other possession was a small wooden box that rested on her lap, housing a few precious belongings. Inside, lay a pair of earrings that had belonged to her mother, a cravat pin of her father's, as well as an object neatly wrapped in a handkerchief and hidden beneath the false bottom lining. It was an item that sent shivers down her spine just thinking about it. It had been years since she had looked at it, yet she could still describe it with alarming accuracy – the frightening symbol forever imbedded in her memory.

"Christine!" her uncle said once again, this time more forcefully. "Are you listening to me?"

Her head snapped up, she had been so lost in her misery that she had apparently not heard him.

She stammered, "F-f-f-forgive me Uncle, I…I did not hear you,"

"Well pay attention, for this is of vital importance!" he told her sternly. "I will not have you embarrassing me when we reach Summercrest Hall, do you hear?"

"Summercrest?" she asked, looking him directly in the eye for the first time since she set foot in the carriage.

"Yes, that is the name of the manor that you will be living at from now on," he informed her, continuing on as if this was all ordinary information, not the life altering declaration it truly was. "For you see, my dear, I have a wonderful surprise waiting for you there. I have arranged for you to be wed to a fine nobleman. We shall arrive sometime early this evening, giving you enough time to meet your future husband before the wedding tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Christine squeaked, her voice cracking at the very thought of marrying so quickly.

"Yes, everything has been arranged by me and Lord Cedric Morant, your intended's father. I will stay tonight and give you away in marriage on the morrow. Then Lord Morant and I will be leaving for France on business, giving you two newlyweds time to become…_better acquainted_." Christine did not like the way he phrased that as he sat back with a greedy smile on his face. "Cedric and I have recently become partners in a lucrative venture and he was quite grateful when I told him I had a young and virtuous niece, fresh from a convent, who was of similar social standing. Apparently he has begun to question the young man's ability to choose a proper bride. So he decided to take the matter into his own hands, seeing to it that his title and legacy were carried on through the producing of an heir."

"I…I am expected to bear him children?!" Christine gasped, unable to contain her outrage any longer. "What have you done, Uncle? Sold me like common goods to a man I do not know and who may not even desire a wife? You cannot do this! I will not consent…I refuse!" Her voice had begun to rise with her anger, the very idea of her being the sacrificial lamb so that her uncle could gain favor and prominence with this foul lord was just too much.

Before Christine could blink, Max Daae reached out and delivered a vicious slap across her face for her insolent remark, causing her head to whip to the side from the force of the blow.

Christine's hand quickly covered her burning cheek as she looked at him in horror. No one had ever struck her this way. Sure, she had been reprimanded by the sisters when she had been mischievous, but never had anyone treated her so indignantly before! Her heart cried for vengeance, screaming for her to retaliate against such abuse. Yet one look at the anger in her uncle's eyes halted any words or actions she would have attempted.

"Why you ungrateful little brat!" Max hissed. "I have seen to it that you were looked after and wanted for none of life's basic necessities all these years, and here you throw my kindness back in my face? This is a golden opportunity for the both of us and I will be damned before I let your wilful spirit mess this up for me. You will do as you are told, or so help me, I will recoup the money I paid out for your worthless education by selling you to a brothel! I hear that Madam Bordeaux is always looking for new girls to entertain her customers." His hand shot out once more but this time he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her forward until his wicked face was only inches from hers. His vile breath and crushing hold on her caused Christine to wince and look away, but there was no escaping his threatening voice. "You have been nothing but a millstone around my neck since your parents died, and you will silence your tongue and do as I say, or there will be consequences – both swift and severe! You are still my ward until you turn eighteen, and if I hear one more complaint out of you I swear that you will be paying me back by turning tricks for every drunken man in England who has the coin to buy you for the night, do you understand me?" He yanked on her arm once more, shaking her hard enough to cause her precious box to slip from her lap, clattering to the floor as if to emphasize his threat. "Do you?!"

"Y-y-yes… Uncle, I…I understand," she whimpered, shutting her eyes and doing her best to hold back her tears, which were more from anger and frustration than his painful grip.

_Yet did she truly understand_, Christine asked herself. The threat yes, but the implications of the words were somewhat lost on her. She was familiar with the biblical explanation that a husband and wife were to become one flesh, but the mechanics of the union had certainly never been discussed in detail by the sisters at the abbey. However, a few of the girls at the school had spoken in hushed whispers about brothels, explaining how fallen women worked there doing unspeakable acts, at the request of men, for money. Something Christine never wanted to learn the details of – especially not first-hand!

"That's more like it, _my dear_," Max sneered, adopting a sickening sweet tone that made Christine's skin crawl. Then, just as quickly as he had grabbed her, he released his hold, shoving her back into her seat with a jarring force. "Just remember what I said once we arrive and keep your mouth shut! I will do all the talking and you need only stand there and look…_appealing."_

Christine shivered at his suggestive words, making her feel like a prized cow at auction time. Was this to be her life now? Married to a man for no other reason than to produce him a son to carry on his family name? She shivered as she tried to imagine the terrifying act she would be forced to perform in order to achieve this goal. She felt her stomach turn as frightening images danced before her eyes. Yet if she refused, her uncle had threatened to turn her into a whore, forcing her to perform the very same acts, but with multiple partners, instead of just the one. Of the two evils, marriage seemed the least heinous.

After a few minutes of silence, she slowly bent down and retrieved her wooden box with trembling hands, noting that it had only suffered a slight scuffing in the fall. The lid had thankfully remained closed, keeping her treasures securely inside. As she stared out the window once more, something suddenly occurred to her. During his entire tirade, her uncle had yet to divulge one key piece of information.

"May…may I ask Uncle," she began, daring to speak as he shot her a withering look. "What is my…my future husband's name?" She cringed slightly, half expecting another punishing slap for her curiosity, but it did not come. Instead she heard him give an exasperated sigh before uttering the two words that would change her life forever.

"Erik Morant."

.

.

The journey did, indeed, take most of the day, the carriage pulling up a long driveway just as the sun was beginning to set behind the hills. Yet, as Christine dared to take a peek out the carriage window, she felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight before her. Summercrest Hall was spectacular! In her wildest dreams she could not have imagined a more magnificent manor; the stately building more resembling a castle than a home. It was mostly constructed out of large grey stonework with spiraling towers and pointed roofs creating an almost medieval appearance. Ivy grew up the face in several places, framing windows and alluding to the fact that this was a well-established place of residence. She absently wondered how many generations had graced this veritable palace down through the ages.

The grounds were immaculately groomed, with the spacious lawn and shrubbery, showing that much time and attention had been afforded to caring for the landscape. In the front of the home, surrounded by the circular drive was a beautiful marble fish pond, with intricately carved statues all around. Was this truly to be her home now? If it were not for the fear of who waited within, she would have actually been looking forward to seeing inside the place. Yet as it was, when the carriage stopped in front of the large stone steps, and the driver opened the carriage door, fear of the unknown kept her rooted in place.

"Get out of the carriage," her uncle ordered, grabbing her by her forearm and pulling her from her seat.

Christine stumbled slightly as she exited, grabbing the waiting hand of the servant mere moments before she fell, righting herself just in time. She recalled her uncle's warning not to embarrass him, and she was certain that taking a tumble into the dirt would have most definitely fallen under that category. Christine stood there, clutching her box to her chest as she let her eyes gaze upwards, overwhelmed by the grandeur of all that lay before her.

"Good evening, Master Daae," a very well dressed and stoic man greeted them, bowing slightly out of respect. "I am Mr. Bower, the butler here at Summercrest. Lord Morant is expecting you. If you will follow me, I will take you to him."

Once more, Max gripped Christine by the arm just above the elbow and pulled her along, her mind and attention still on the size of the mansion. Once inside the main foyer, they followed the man down a long hallway until they stopped at a large wooden door.

"The young miss can wait in here for now," the butler instructed, pushing the door open to reveal a large sitting room with a fireplace and several pieces of elaborate furniture. "Lord Morant wishes to speak with you in private and is waiting in the library."

"Certainly," Max agreed, placing his hand on the small of Christine's back and all but shoving her inside, following close behind. His back was now to the butler, Mr. Bower, so he missed seeing the disapproving look the older man gave him for his obvious mistreatment of the poor girl. Max then turned his niece around to face him, his eyes taking on that threatening look once more. "Wait here, and do not even think of running! If you do, make no mistake, that I _will_ find you and make you pay dearly for your disobedience. I will be back soon." And with that, he left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Christine was alone. Alone, afraid and wishing with all her might that she was still back at the abbey! All the students would just now be finishing up dinner, followed by quiet time for reading and meditating on Bible verses and then off to bed for an early start the following morning. Yet here she was, in a strange house in a faraway place where she knew no one. She truly had never felt so lost.

She shivered slightly, but soon realized it was due to the lack of heat in the room and not solely attributed to her nervousness. Laying her box down on a decorative end table, she moved to the fireplace and grasping the metal poker she did her best to stoke the embers, adding on a few more logs that lay nearby. She was down on her knees in front of it, blowing on the coals to help them ignite when the approaching sound of angry boots made her stiffen up.

Suddenly, she heard the distinct voices of two men as they entered the room, the loud slam of the door shutting behind them easily betrayed their fury. Christine remained on her knees, knowing from where she crouched she was not visible to the new occupants due to the high backed lounge that stood between them. If she remained very quiet and did not move, perhaps they would not see her and eventually leave. She held her breath and listened as the two men began to speak.

.

.

**OH MY...who could the two men who just came in possibly be? (as if you didn't already know, ha ha)**

**Please send me a review and let me know what you think about it so far. You KNOW how much I love reviews...love them, love them, love them, love them!**

**I am always in competition with myself to see if my latest story can top my previous one in reviews, so you can help me with that! **

**AND since some of you already read part of this chapter when I posted the sneak preview months ago, if I get some nice feedback, I MIGHT be tempted to post chapter 2 early. My regular posting schedule will be twice a week - Sundays and Thursdays - and we have many, many chapters to go. So buckle up and get set for a long ride (don't' worry, we WILL stop at rest areas!)**

**Now...please review...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! You were All so wonderful and complimentary with your reviews that I am going to treat you to chapter 2 NOW! Then you can at least meet Erik and Amir before you have to wait till Thursday for the next installment.  
**

**Thank you all so much for following and reviewing! **

**I LOVE EVERY REVIEW!**

.

Chapter 2

.

.

"Damn it all to hell!" the first voice shouted, followed by the sound of clinking glasses and sloshing liquid. "How dare my father try to control my life like this! If only I could tell the bastard to mind his own affairs and leave me the hell alone!"

"I admit I would be willing to pay good money to see that," the second voice told the first, his accent betraying that he hailed from some foreign country.

"Would you believe he had the gall to send out invitations before even telling _me_ about it?" the angry man asked in amazed disgust. "What did he think I would do, just roll over and accept my fate without a fight? This is lunacy!"

"I agree, you are a grown man, fully capable of choosing your own future," his friend agreed. "If you are so adamant against this, just tell your father to go hang and be done with it!"

The first man let out a low chuckle, indicating that he would like nothing more, yet the heavy sigh that followed told Christine that it would not be happening.

"If only I could, Amir…if only I could," the mysterious man lamented. There was a moment of silence, and Christine could imagine that he had taken a long drink of the spirits he had just poured, for this was followed by the sound of the glass being refilled. "Yet if I defy him, he has threatened to disown me and sell Summercrest to the highest bidder. I cannot let that happen and you know exactly why, my friend."

"Yes. I know you cannot, Erik," the man named Amir agreed sadly.

_Erik?_ Was this perhaps the very Erik Morant that she was to marry the following day? If so, it did not appear that he was any more thrilled about the arrangement than she. Perhaps he could become her ally, the two of them joining forces to escape this unwanted union. However, her hopes were dashed as he continued to speak.

"If it were just me, I would refuse to even set eyes on this blasted chit he expects me to wed, but my life is not the only one at stake here. If I were to lose Summercrest, there would be no further way to hide my secrets. Everything we worked and suffered so hard for would then be exposed." Erik's voice was utterly defeated, like a cornered man with no way out.

"As much as I would like you to balk against this, I see no other option for you my friend," Amir admitted. "Your old man has you over a barrel, so to speak. You might as well try and make the best of it. Who knows, perhaps this woman you are to marry is not half as bad as you think?"

"Even at _half _as bad, she would still be more than I could stand," Erik said with a groan, his steps indicating that he had moved towards the window and was now perhaps looking out over the darkened grounds. "The last thing I want, or need, is some busy-body wench flitting around Summercrest, sticking her high-class nose where it does not belong. Women are insatiably curious by nature, Amir, and the majority show no sign of common sense or knowledge of boundaries. It would appear that the higher the social pedigree, the worse they become! Be glad your family is thousands of miles away in Persia and don't give a damn that you are in no hurry to take a wife."

"You know your father would not have cared about your married state either had he not happened to stumble upon your so called _indiscretion_," Amir said. She then heard him sit down in one of the fine leather chairs facing the window. "Obviously he feels this is his only way to save face."

This statement seemed to cause some sort of tension between them as she heard a sharp intake of breath followed by an uncomfortable silence. Christine could have almost sworn that the man named Erik gave a low growl…an actual _growl_.

"Forgive me, my friend," Amir said apologetically. "My choice of words was ill conceived."

"Yet…not untrue," Erik all but whispered, causing Christine to strain in order to hear him. "Of course, this leads to yet another problem…what will my blushing bride have to say when she gets a look at this?"

_This?_ What was _this_? Christine now wished she could see the two men and understand what it was they were discussing.

"I suppose that will be a bit more difficult to explain away," Amir admitted. "If your wife is as curious as you expect her to be, that will indeed become an issue."

"AN ISSUE!?" Erik roared. "This is more than a bloody issue, it is a veritable nightmare! _This_ monstrosity is why I have not yet taken a wife…_this_ abomination is why I wish to be left alone…and _this_ disgrace is why I can only imagine the hell that tomorrow will bring!"

"I feel your pain, my friend," Amir said. "Not a day goes by that I do not wish I had come sooner. I failed you, Erik."

"No. I alone am to blame for my predicament, not you," he assured him. "Yet I would do it again, a thousand times over…just perhaps smarter." He let out a low chuckle, and Christine could tell there was a slight smile behind it.

"So what will you do with this wife you are to be given?" Amir asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"_Do_ with her?" Erik questioned. "I plan to have_ nothing_ to do with the little horror. I shall stick her in the west wing and forget she exists. Perhaps if I ply her with enough jewelry and fancy dresses she will in turn forget she has a husband and I never have to see her again."

Christine found herself smiling in spite of herself. This did not sound like such a bad situation after all. Not because she was excited about the jewelry or dresses, but the idea of her being left alone was very appealing.

"You would abandon this woman to a life of isolation, to being your wife in name only?" Amir sounded aghast at this idea. "I was under the impression that you are expected to produce an heir by means of her."

"Perhaps fortune will smile upon me and she will prove the faithless sort by taking a lover. Then I can pass off the hapless child as my own and get my blasted father off my back," he said callously.

This caused Christine to become indignant. How dare this Erik think her so faithless and lacking in moral character? He had yet to even meet her!

"Erik, you can't be serious," Amir asked in shock.

"I can and I am," he assured his friend firmly. "My father may be able to coerce me into this marriage but he cannot force me to consummate it, no matter what threats he holds over my head. If he questions the lack of an heir, I will claim he gave me a barren wife and I dare him to challenge me on that!"

"I pity you my friend," Amir once more stated in a sympathetic tone. "You truly do not deserve the hell that you are living." Christine then heard him rise from his chair and give a deep sigh. "As much as I hate to leave you in such a predicament, I know that your father is less than pleased I am here and I do not wish to add to your torment this evening. Thus, I will take my leave and see you at your reception tomorrow. I can hardly imagine I will be welcomed at the wedding itself."

"I wish I could say you were, for I could use a friend to help me through this nightmare," Erik stated sadly. "Yet I agree that it is probably best you keep your distance. We would be unwise to rub salt into an open wound. My blasted father is already forcing me to marry a harpy. Who knows what other horrors he might choose to inflict upon me in retaliation?"

"Chin up, Erik. Perhaps she will surprise you…or at least be pleasing to look at." Amir's hopeful tone did little to lighten Erik's dark mood.

"Pleasing to look at?" he repeated, letting out a sad laugh. "If my unwanted bride will not be graced with such a kindness…why on earth should I?" He then gave a tired sigh. "Forgive me, Amir, I am afraid I am not the best company tonight and no matter what you might say to lighten my mood, it will fail miserably. It is probably best you leave; there is no sense in dragging you down with me in despair."

"Good night then…and good luck." When she heard the door open and shut, Christine could only assume the man named Amir had left.

_Now if only her intended would do so as well_, she thought to herself. Then what? She was still trapped in this house, condemned to marry this perplexing man whom she had yet to even get a look at. It was obvious that he was hiding something…or by the sounds of it, _many_ things. Why did he so desperately need to retain possession of Summercrest? What was the indiscretion they had spoken of? And what was the mysterious _this _they kept referring to?

As she sat there contemplating these new and confounding revelations, she suddenly realized that she wanted nothing more than to be free of it all. If running was her only way out of this horrible marriage, then so be it! To hell with her uncle's threats! She would escape the first chance she got and if he tried to come after her and drag her back to this nightmare, she would fight him tooth and nail. Christine would _not_ go willingly. Now, she only had to wait till Erik left the room and pray that her uncle did not return before then.

She had just settled in to wait when one of the logs in the fireplace suddenly shifted, making a loud noise as it fell against the burning coals, causing a barrage of sparks to fly out at her. An unwanted squeak escaped her lips before she could stifle it back and she covered her mouth as her eyes grew wide with fear. Had he heard her? Did he know she was there? After a few tense moments of silence she let out her pent up breath, thinking that she had, indeed, avoided discovery. However, when a crystal drinking glass was thrown at the stone mantle directly in front of her, shattering into a million pieces with a loud crash, she knew that was no longer the case.

.

.

Erik had remained standing, staring out the window into the darkness after Amir left. He had been grateful that his friend had stopped by not long after his father had delivered the devastating news of his impending nuptials. Erik had needed to vent his frustrations, to share his pain with someone who understood. Only two people in the world knew the secrets that he was so desperately trying to keep hidden… and Amir Dessan was one of them. Ever since Erik and the Persian had met at university, they had watched out for one another, laying their lives on the line to defend their friendship. It was that loyalty, as well as his attempt to help Erik hide the truth, that had earned Amir his father's hatred. Yet, it did not matter to Erik if Cedric accepted his friend or not, he was determined to have Amir at the ridiculous reception his father had planned after the wedding.

Apparently, Lord Morant had invited half the county to witness his son's marriage. Once again, more concerned with his reputation than the feelings or wishes of his own flesh and blood. How Erik loathed him for that. So if he was going to be forced to stand there and smile while his whole world was crumbling down around him, the least he could do was have his best friend there to ply him with alcohol.

Erik had been so lost in his thoughts that he had almost missed the sound that came from behind the lounge next to the fireplace. He turned his eyes towards the noise but saw nothing…at first. Yet, a quick glance at the large metal coat-of-arms that hung over the mantel showed him that he was not alone. The reflection he saw in the polished shield was distorted but he could distinctly make out the shape of a person. A person crouched behind the furniture, spying on him and listening to every word he said. Was this _someone_ hired by his father to discover more of Erik's secrets, to inform the blasted man of every sordid detail of his son's misspent life? If it was, then they were about to wish they had never been born!

Downing the last of the brandy in his glass Erik turned and hurled the goblet at the stone mantel, watching as it rained down crystal shards all over the floor. He heard a distinct cry from the infiltrator and watched as the figure rose, fleeing towards the door. Erik had always been quick on his feet and now was no exception, as he easily cut the intruder off before they could reach the door. With little care for mercy he slammed the figure up against the wall and held his hostage there for interrogation.

Yet any words of accusation died on his lips as he took a good look at whom he had captured. The young girl was a true beauty, taking his breath away as he stared into her deep blue eyes. She was certainly unlike any woman he had ever seen before, for all others paled in comparison to this heavenly creature trembling before him. Her face was flawless, like a doll, her lips just the perfect shade of kissable pink and her shimmering chestnut hair looked so thick and rich that he could hardly resist the urge to run his fingers through it. Yes, she was exquisite…and at the moment, she was completely at_ his_ mercy.

Christine stood there, her knees weak and her throat dry as she stared at the man who had her pinned in place, his hard, lean body as unrelenting as a brick wall. He had thick, black hair which was neatly groomed and was dressed impeccably in evening attire befitting his station. Yet, what caught her foremost attention, was the shaped white leather mask that covered the majority of his face. It stretched from side to side, from his forehead down to his-jawline, leaving only his mouth exposed to her sight. However, the two blazing amber-colored eyes that now stared at her were, by far, the most startling of all. In those golden eyes, Christine could see such passion, such depth…and so much pain that it frightened her. She suddenly knew exactly what the _this_ they had been discussing had to be. _His face_.

Erik continued to stare at the girl, watching as a host of emotions danced across her features and he pulled back slightly as she seemed to settle on utter terror. Yet, why should she not…she was a spy who had just been caught, after all.

"Who are you?" Erik questioned, letting his eyes survey her clothing and quickly assuming she was a maid of some sort. "Who hired you? Was it Madam Giry? How long have you been here?"

His rapid-fire questions made her even more afraid and she quickly answered the last question first, not knowing quite what to say.

"I…I just arrived," she told him truthfully.

"Why were you spying on me? Do you work for my father? Did he place you here to flush out my secrets?" he continued to press, his tone becoming more enraged as he spoke.

"No…I…I have never met your father," she assured him, her throat turning dry and causing her words to stumble. "I was not spying, I swear. I was only tending the fire and when you came in, I…I was afraid, so I hid myself. Please forgive me, I did not mean to overhear."

"So, you freely admit to eavesdropping," Erik growled. "What exactly did you glean from what was said? What did you learn?"

"That…that you are to be married…and…and you do not wish it," Christine stammered.

"Aye, at least you are not daft as well as deceitful." Erik found that even though he was still quite upset, he couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the girl who stood before him. She was shaking like a leaf and looked so very frightened…yet completely enchanting! Suddenly, he could feel his body begin to respond to his close proximity to this heavenly creature. "And how am I to punish you for the crime of spying? For you must atone for your sins."

"My sins?" Christine's eyes grew wide. Would he dare strike her or have her reprimanded in some other painful manner? "Please sir, I didn't mean to…"

"Silence!" he barked, making her flinch. "Perhaps I will make the punishment fit the crime," he continued his voice now becoming thoughtful as he contemplated his new idea. "You have learned my secrets, thus it is only fair that I discover yours. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I…I have no secrets," she stammered. Though in retrospect she realized she had plenty of them and most of them revolved around him.

"Ahhh, but that is where you are wrong," he told her, removing his right hand from off her shoulder and bringing it up to brush the back of his knuckles seductively down her left cheek, feeling her shudder under his touch. "For I suddenly feel the need to know the mysteries of your touch, little spy, the feel of your skin and the taste of your lips. Perhaps if I were to discover these secrets, then I might be allowed to forget the horrible duty I must perform tomorrow." He then leaned in just a bit closer until his masked face was mere inches from hers, his voice now deep and husky. "Yes, I do believe a night in your arms would indeed be a fine distraction to take my mind off my impending wedding." And before she could utter a word of protest, he brought his mouth down to hers in a ravenous kiss.

Christine had never been kissed before and the whole act took her completely by surprise. His lips were warm and soft yet demanding and hard at the same time, leaving her confused as to how to act. Her eyes had closed involuntarily, reducing her senses to simply that of his touch and the feelings he was now invoking within her once innocent mind. The kiss deepened to something almost sinful as she felt his tongue glide across her lips, demanding entrance as his hand fisted in her hair, tipping her head backwards slightly. Christine was helpless to resist and without even realizing what she was doing she acquiesced to his insistent tongue, allowing it access to the places it sought. A moan escaped her but was deftly caught by his mouth as it continued to explore the delights he had found, searching for more as he delved deeper still. Christine felt light-headed and knew if he continued his assault she would surely faint, yet at the same time she could not bring herself to resist him in any fashion. She had never before felt such euphoria…or such craving. However, the moment his other hand, the one not still tangled in her hair, moved down and dared to graze her breast she immediately stiffened in terror. This was not right! Christine knew she should never allow anyone to touch her in such an inappropriate manner and it caused her to regain her senses. Placing her hands up against her assailant's muscular chest, she tried desperately to push him away.

Erik had only meant to frighten the truth from her, making her believe that he intended to take her to his bed as some wicked form of punishment. Yet this plan, along with all good sense, had left him the moment his lips touched hers. Erik had suspected that she would taste heavenly, but he never imagined exactly how sweet a kiss could be. In all his years, never had he been so swept up in a moment of passion, so completely consumed by desire…especially by a girl he had just met. Erik was no stranger to the bed of a woman, having had many licentious encounters on several continents, yet they all paled in comparison to what he was feeling at that moment. What was it about _this_ girl…a mere servant who may or may not have been hired as a spy by his father?

Yet all thoughts of her motives for hiding her presence from him were forgotten as he gained entrance to her mouth and heard her moan in pleasure from his kiss. She was sweet perfection itself and he had to have more, leading him to begin to explore with his hands as well. Yet when his fingers began to search out her ample breasts he felt her compliance suddenly wane, leaving the once supple woman now cold and stiff in his embrace. He fought to regain his mastery over her, to reignite the passion that continued to consume him, but it was no use. She began to fight him, pushing against him in earnest as her moans of pleasure quickly turned to a cry of fright. When he took a step back and looked at her, the desperation and terror in her eyes caused him to break his contact completely. _What was he doing_, he asked himself as a cold sweat gripped his body. He could not believe that for a moment he had thought to forcefully seduce an unwilling servant girl, causing a mixture of rage and shame to wash over him. Somehow this woman had bewitched his mind, causing a temporary madness to take hold of him until he had lost all sense of propriety.

Erik took another step back, raking his fingers through his hair as he did his best to control his breathing. He needed space…to be away from her in order to regain his composure. She was too close, too tempting and far too lovely not to want more.

"Go! Leave my sight!" he ordered harshly, afraid that if she stayed there a moment longer he might once more give way to his lustful urges.

Christine did not need to be told twice and as quickly as her shaking legs could manage, she raced towards the door, yanking on the metal handle until it swung open. However what she saw on the other side made her stop dead in her tracks. Her Uncle Max and another gentleman were standing there, just reaching for the knob themselves, impeding her escape. The gentleman beside her uncle was tall, well-built and had the bearing of a man of status. He had a thick head of hair and while it was now peppered with streaks of silver grey, Christine could tell it had once been a rich black color. He seemed to be past his prime, perhaps in his mid-sixties, but it was easy to see that in his youth he would have been considered extremely handsome. It was then that she realized exactly who he was…this was Lord Cedric Morant, _Erik's father_. There were too many similarities to deny the fact but the one feature where Erik and his father differed was their eyes. Where Erik's were a mysterious and alluring amber color, his father's eyes were cold and dark, betraying a cruelty that made her take an involuntary step backwards.

"Just where do you think you are going, my dear?" Max asked, his eyes narrowing and his voice taking on a threatening tone. Before she could answer, he reached out and took her by the arm, forcefully turning her around as he marched her back inside the room. They were followed closely behind by Lord Morant, who immediately began speaking.

"Ah, there you are, Erik." His voice sounding as deep and cold as his eyes. "How convenient to find you here as well." Cedric then looked around the room with narrowed eyes. "I take it that infidel friend of yours has seen fit to take his leave."

Erik was still reeling from his encounter with the maid and had very little patience left to spare for his father's insufferable bigotry.

"You can bully and threaten me all you like, _father_," Erik spat, the taste of bile rising in his throat at the use of the parental title. "But I will not stand for you slandering my friend for no just cause!"

"No just cause? I think what I see before me is more than enough _cause_ to despise that filthy Persian and you know it!" Lord Morant shot back, his eyes blazing with hate.

Erik gave a long sigh and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck in frustration.

"Simply tell me what it is you wish to say and be done with it," Erik sighed. "I have had quite enough of your _revelations_ today and wish only to retire for the evening." While what he said was true, Erik found he mostly wanted to escape the presence of the woman who was still standing in front of him, looking quite bewildered and still a bit afraid. Even from this distance, her proximity was affecting him and he wished to be alone to regain mastery of his self-control.

"I had intended to introduce you to your future bride," Cedric Morant began, causing Erik's head to shoot up and his eyes to lock on those of his fathers. "However, it would appear you both have already met. At least that is my assumption, seeing as how the two of you were found in the same room together."

Erik's mouth fell open in shock. This woman – _the spy_ - was to be his wife?

.

.

**SURPRISE ERIK! You get a wife...and she is PRETTY TOO!**

**Wonder what he will think about THAT? Tune in and find out!**

**Sooo, did you like our two boys? And how do you think Christine reacted? Let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3

**It is THURSDAY! I tried to stay up till 12:01 like last time, but was too tired. So 5:00am will have to do. ha ha**

**First of all, I have a few responses to my 'Guest' readers:**

**Melstrife: Please feel free to slap Max all you want. To answer your other question...No...but yes...but mostly no...confused? **

**You will see what I mean later, hee hee  
**

**Barefootballerin: Thank you very much - I have missed posting too!  
**

**phan: Thank you for saying so...and I did!**

**Now lets go see what Erik REALLY thinks of this new piece of information! The spy is to be his wife? How can this be? Lets find out...**

.

**Chapter 3**

.

.

"I…I do not understand," Erik stammered, looking at the girl who was now blushing profusely and staring at the floor. "She said she was a maid."

"I said no such thing!" Christine quickly defending herself, her chin coming up as she looked him straight in the eye. She may have omitted a few key points but she most certainly did not lie. "You only assumed I was a maid and I was not given the opportunity to correct your misunderstanding."

"Christine!" her uncle chastised her, increasing the pressure on his already vice-like grip. "You will hold your tongue and not speak to Master Erik in such a disrespectful manner!" When she once more lowered her eyes, biting her lip to keep from crying or further enraging her uncle, Max turned to Erik in apology. "You must forgive my niece, she has recently come from a convent and knows very little of social etiquette. However, I am certain that she will learn quick enough under your skillful direction. It must have been her style of dress that caused you to mistake her for one of the servants but I assure you, Christine is of good breeding and a lady born of high society."

Erik remained silent as he took in this new found information. _Christine_…her name was Christine. She was neither a maid nor a spy but instead the very woman he had called a harpy and a chit not ten minutes ago. Could it be true…that she was to become his wife? Erik was suddenly very torn on the subject, not knowing whether to be elated or angry as hell.

Lord Morant took his son's silence to be born of defiance and he became angered by his apparent rebellion.

"I told you this morning, Erik, that I do not care what you think of the match! You will cleave to this woman, and you will consent to the wedding whether you approve of my choice or not," he hollered, his dignified face now turning an unhealthy shade of purple in his rage. "Even if I have to drag you bound and gagged to the altar, I swear that you will take…"

"I accept." Erik heard himself say, cutting his father off in mid-sentence.

Christine's head snapped up, staring at the man before her with a striking flash of terror. Did he just say he approved the match? Why on earth would he say that?

"What?" Cedric asked, stunned by his son's unexpected compliance.

"I said I accept your terms and choice of a bride," he continued, never taking his eyes off of Christine. "Finalize the arrangements, I will offer no further resistance to the union," Erik told his bewildered father and with one last glance at the woman, who had somehow bewitched his ever sense, he stormed from the room.

At first Cedric and Max exchanged looks of confusion, but soon they were slapping one another on the back as if they had single-handedly conquered the world.

Christine stood there, feeling blindsided and stunned as to what had just taken place. She had to admit, Erik Morant was a far cry from the beastly old man she had originally envisioned from her uncle's description. Even the presence of his mysterious mask did not detract from his virile form and haunting eyes which had thrown her completely off guard. Yet the way he had so masterfully taken control of her mind and body with one simple kiss, made her blush with maidenly shame. Was she such a wanton that she would melt so quickly in the arms of the first man who dared to touch her? Was it sinful for her to still be thinking about the feel of his lips on hers? Erik _was_ to be her husband after all, yet somehow it still felt very wrong and wicked. The sisters at the abbey had often spoke of the sins of the flesh and while she had once scoffed against falling prey to such earthly temptation, she now wished she had paid better attention during those lectures.

However, regardless of how _she_ had reacted, Christine knew she could not ascribe those same feelings to Erik. Had he not initiated the kiss solely as a punishment for her supposed act of spying on him? He had thought her a simple house maid, someone beneath his station, thus at his disposal should he wish for a quick sexual distraction. To him it would have been a form of reprimand, a way of getting even with her for deceiving him. No, Erik Morant did not want _her_, he had only wanted her body and the pleasures he could have derived from taking her. Pleasures, she was sure, that would _not_ have been mutual.

Some of the girls at the abbey who had older siblings, claimed the act of marital relations was solely for the enjoyment and benefit of husbands, leaving their wives to endure the act in order to please their mates and to conceive children. While Christine was not staunchly opposed to the idea of fulfilling her wifely duties, regardless of how unpleasant and distasteful it sounded, she had always imagined it would be performed with someone she loved, thus making the ordeal at least tolerable. Yet, how could she offer herself to a man who was being forced to marry her and who had openly confessed to wanting nothing to do with her? The whole situation was pure madness, and just when she thought it could not get any worse…her uncle spoke.

"Well, my dear," Max began, breaking her from her thoughts. "It seems that your latent feminine charms have won you the attention of your intended after all."

Christine was too mortified to respond; she simply looked down at the floor and clasped her hands nervously in front of her. Once more her uncle's cruel words left her feeling very much like a mere object instead of a person.

"Yes indeed, Max," Cedric Morant chimed in. "It would also appear that my son is not immune to the sight of a pretty face or put off by her maidenly innocence." He then stepped forward and tipped her face upwards so that he could get a better look at his soon-to-be daughter-in-law. "He would possess a hardened soul, indeed, to not appreciate the delicate flower I see hiding behind the peasant-like facade. I will see that the tailors from Brentwood are brought out first thing to have the girl fitted for her new station. We can't have her parading around on her wedding day in these rags."

"You are far too kind to her, my lord," Max said with a slight bow to his friend.

"Let's just hope my good opinion is kept once the wedding is official," Cedric drawled as he leaned in slightly, his dark eyes growing colder as he glared at Christine menacingly. "I expect you to bear that worthless son of mine a child and give me a legitimate heir. Do you understand girl? I realize this will require you to bed a veritable monster, however given the right motivation I believe you will find the deed at least bearable. Fail me on this and I will have no qualms about replacing you with another who can give me what I want."

"She will not fail you, Cedric," Max was quick to assure him, knowing if the marriage was annulled, any hope of his fortune would go with it. "Christine knows her place and is well aware of her duty, isn't that right, my darling?" When she did not respond immediately, Max slipped his hand around her back, grabbing a fistful of her hair and tugging _just_ hard enough to make his point.

"Yes…Uncle," she agreed through clenched teeth, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. Christine had just about as much humiliation and degradation as she could stand for one day and all she wished to do was crawl into a hole somewhere and cry.

"Good. That is what I wish to hear," Cedric gloated, patting her on her still tender cheek, before he walked to the wall and pulled a tasseled cord, summoning the help. A few moments later, a middle-aged woman with a careworn but pleasant face, appeared at the door.

"You rang, my lord?" she asked, giving a deep curtsy.

"Yes. You will escort this young woman to her room," he directed. "She will have to make do with whatever clothing she brought with her tonight but see that she is bathed and ready to be fitted for new things first thing tomorrow." He then turned to Christine and gave her a look that sent shivers down her spine. "I would suggest you get a good night's sleep, my dear. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day…and night for you."

As Christine left the room and the door was shut behind her, she could not help but cringe as she overheard the two vile men erupt in laughter. Was her misery so entertaining they felt the need to continue to humiliate her even after she was gone? When the servant woman began to walk down the hall and then up a massive spiraling staircase, Christine followed willingly, eager to escape from those horrid men.

"My name is Antoinette Giry, and I serve Master Erik as housekeeper here at Summercrest," the kindly lady introduced herself as they went. Christine noted that she carried a walking cane, yet did not appear to be limping or in need of any form of assistance. "You need not worry about Lord Morant, he does not live here and is loath to visit more than once a month…often less, if we are lucky." From her tone, it was not hard for Christine to detect the housekeper's disdain for Erik's father. A feeling she wholeheartedly shared.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Giry," Christine addressed politely.

"Madam, actually," Antoinette corrected. "Though my husband has long since passed. But I have a beautiful daughter to help remember him by and Master Erik has seen to it that I have a good job and a fine home in which to raise her. He is very good to those in his employ and I believe you will find him to be an amiable husband as well, my lady."

Christine opened her mouth, prepared to barrage the poor woman with a series of questions about her betrothed but as they rounded the corner her attention was stolen by the sight of a slender blond-haired girl, perhaps a year or two older than herself, standing by a large decorative oak door. When they approached, she gave a graceful curtsy and smiled broadly at Christine. It was quite obvious that this was the daughter Madam Giry had described, for they shared many of the same pleasant traits that had already put Christine at ease.

"Good evening miss," the girl exclaimed in a voice full of delight. "My name is Meg and I will be serving as your lady's maid. I will help you dress in the morning and tend to whatever needs may arise. If there is anything you desire, you just need ask me and I will provide it, my lady."

"Thank you Meg, but please call me Christine," she begged, not at all comfortable with the high sounding titles they had both used for her.

"I…I am not sure it is proper, miss," Meg stammered, looking to her mother for direction.

"If the soon-to-be lady of the house requests that you address her in a specific way, you obey," her mother told her firmly.

"Yes…of course, Miss Christine," Meg agreed, once more giving a curtsy towards her new mistress.

"Meg will help you get ready for bed but might I bring you anything to eat before you retire?" Madam Giry asked. "Dinner was served hours ago, however I am sure I could scare up a little something for you if you are hungry."

Christine knew she should be famished, for her uncle had only stopped long enough at a tavern to pick up a meager lunch of bread and cheese. But the harrowing events of the last hour or so had caused her to completely lose her appetite.

"No I am fine. Thank you for your kindness in asking though," she told the good natured woman.

"It is my pleasure to serve, Miss Christine." Madam Giry assured her. "We were not informed of your arrival until this afternoon, so we did not have much time to make a proper suite ready for you. However, this is one of the nicest guest rooms here at Summercrest and I think you will be comfortable for tonight."

And tomorrow, Christine would move to the west wing, where Erik said he would lock her away and never speak to her again. Well, that was fine with her! The less she saw of that man the better…right? Yet, if that was the case, why did she suddenly have an overwhelming urge to see his haunting eyes again? Those eyes that seemed to know exactly what her mind and body yearned for.

"Would you like to turn in then, Miss Christine?" Meg prompted, opening the door and gesturing for her to enter first.

"Yes…thank you," she murmured, still a bit lost in her thoughts of her future husband and his eyes.

"Pleasant dreams miss. I am sure I will see you in the morning," Madam Giry promised as she curtsied and disappeared down the hall.

Christine did as Meg directed and entered the cozy room, complete with a four poster bed and a nice sitting area beside a blazing fireplace. Several oil lamps and candles had been lit around the room, making it warm and inviting.

"I had Mr. Bower bring up your bag from the carriage but I did not hang up your dress, seeing as how this is only a temporary room for you," Meg was saying as she moved to turn down the bed. "I did, however, find your nightgown and laid it out for you on the dressing table over there." She pointed to where Christine's long night dress lay waiting.

At the sight of her belongings, Christine suddenly remembered her wooden box that she had left in the sitting room down stairs.

"Oh dear!" she gasped spinning around as she looked at the door, wondering if she dared go back down and retrieve it.

"What is it Miss Christine?" Meg asked, seeing the concern in her mistress' eyes.

"I…I had a box with me when I arrived," she said, panic starting to rise in her chest. "I left it in the sitting room. It is very precious to me and I do not wish to lose it."

"It will be fine where it is for tonight," Meg assured her, doing her best to calm her fears. "No one will bother it and it would not be wise to interrupt his lordship while he is entertaining guests in order to reclaim it now."

"I am sure you are right," Christine agreed, yet it still caused her great concern. The box itself was nothing of importance but to her the contents were invaluable.

"Would you like me to help you dress for bed?" Meg asked, reaching for the night dress.

"No…thank you, I can manage," Christine interjected, a bit overwhelmed at the sudden attention she was receiving. Were ladies of society so spoiled they were incapable of dressing and undressing themselves?

"Very well, Miss Christine," Meg told her with a smile. "I will let you turn in then, please ring for me if you need anything," she instructed as she quietly slipped out the door, shutting it behind her.

Again, Christine was left alone and while she had just wished for solitude a few minutes ago, now she found herself a bit afraid of the disturbing silence. At the abbey, there was always some sort of noise, be it singing from the choir or the tittering of the other girls as they told stories to one another after the sisters had called for lights out. Now, the only sound she could hear was the crackling of the fire and perhaps the crickets outside her window.

Christine walked over and stared out into the night, the full moon bathing the mansion grounds in a blanket of silver-blue. She could make out an orchard in the distance and a small shimmering lake surrounded by more shrubs, bushes and stone walls. Perhaps Christine could find a measure of joy living here after all, if she was allowed to explore the grounds at her leisure.

Yet her hopes were quickly dashed as she recalled the threats laid out by her uncle and her future father-in-law. She had been placed at Summercrest for one reason only…to bear Erik Morant's heir. Yet, from what she overheard, that was not what the man in question desired. Had he truly suggested that she might be unfaithful to him and share a dalliance with some random stable boy? Christine had never had delusions of grandeur or self-importance, yet she had enough respect for herself to know that she would not be having any affairs! No indeed, Christine was a woman of high moral character.

After stoking up the fire a bit in hopes it would last most of the night, she slipped out of her dress and put on her nightgown in preparation for bed. She then walked around the room, blowing out the candles and dousing lamps, until only the light from the fireplace remained before she climbed into bed. The sheets were made of the finest cotton, warm and cozy and Christine could not recall a more comfortable mattress in her life. Yet despite the opulence of her surroundings, sleep would not come. For as soon as she closed her eyes, all she could see were _his_ eyes and _his_ lips! The memory of his hard, lean body pressed against hers was suddenly at the forefront of her mind. Yes, she was certainly a sinner for entertaining such thoughts… she had to be. So instead of sleeping, Christine laid there, eyes wide open, just staring at the tiled ceiling. It was going to be a very long night.

.

.

Just down the hall and around a corner, Erik too lay awake in his bed, his fingers laced together and tucked behind his head as he stared at the ceiling in anger and frustration. Why on earth had he ever agreed to this farce of a marriage? What had come over him to make him say yes? Erik knew he was boxed neatly into a corner, his father giving him no alternative… yet before, he had at least been the unwilling participant. Now, after one heated kiss with the girl, he had given his consent!

Erik gave a low growl of frustration and brought his hands down as he struck his fists against the bed on either side of him in anger. What was wrong with him? Was this one girl so delectable that he had lost all self-control? He had only meant to scare her, to extract the truth from her about why she had spied on him, why she had concealed her presence. But suddenly, his need for information had turned into something completely different, morphing into a need of another kind. A need he had not had fulfilled in four years!

Erik reached up and touched his unmasked face. Had it truly been that long since…since _this_? His mind drifted back to the years of his misspent youth, never realizing how quickly things could change. Erik had wined, dined and bedded his share of tempting beauties, yet none of them had ever captured his heart. He had always thought there would be plenty of time for that later, when he was older and ready to settle down with a wife and family. _Oh the irony_. For now, when he would like nothing more, that opportunity had been violently ripped from his grasp. How could he ever expect a woman, any woman, to willingly bed him now, looking as he did? He could hardly stand the sight himself, so surely there was no hope that a delicate thing such as Christine would wish to do so.

He could almost imagine that she had enjoyed his advances, but the fear in her eyes and the way she had so adamantly tried to fend him off told him otherwise. He had taken her by surprise, perhaps startled her into submission but in the end, Erik knew what he was and where his limitations now lay. Still, by the setting of the sun tomorrow, that very same girl was to become his wife. She was to bind herself to him, speaking the words before God and man that would yoke the two of them together for life. Yet, did she wish it? Or was she too just as much a hapless victim as he in all this? Erik had agreed to this union, albeit grudgingly, but had Christine been given the choice or the opportunity to decline? The way her uncle had manhandled her and the manner in which she had acted, made him think not. What hold did that sniveling little man have over her that could make her agree to marry a monster such as him? Erik needed to know the answer to that…as well as many more questions that sprang to mind. He wanted to know all about her, where had she been born, who her parents were, what was her favorite color or food? Everything a person would normally have learned about their betrothed long before the day they were to say 'I do'.

Thanks to his wretched father and his scheming, they had been robbed of such delights…and yet, had his father not decided to involve himself in his affairs, Erik might never have met Christine. Oh this was quite the conundrum and for the hundredth time that day he cursed his father's name to hell.

What _would _he do once they were married? Erik gave a sarcastic laugh at the idea he had told Amir, of him locking Christine away and forgetting she existed…as if _that_ was even possible. Ever since he had touched her skin, Erik had burned with a fire he had not felt the likes of in years, and if she was to be his _wife_, he knew that flame would eventually consume him. Christine was innocent, of that he was sure. He did not trust her uncle any more than he did his own father but it was obvious from the way she reacted to his intimate contact that Christine had, indeed, just come fresh from a convent. Erik felt a smile grace his lips at the thought that he was most likely the first man to ever kiss her…to ever touch her. This pleased him very much, yet equally saddened him as well, for that meant that she would be condemned to become the wife of a hideous man she did not love. A life full of secrets, lies and deception…a life he hated himself for inflicting upon her.

Erik probably would have berated himself all night, tossing and turning until the sun rose over the hill, proclaiming his wedding day, but a sudden sound put an end to all that. A loud cry pierced the silence of the house, a scream mixed with terror and grief that cut him to the core. _No…not again!_

Erik bounded from his bed, grabbing his mask and throwing on a shirt over his night trousers as he raced towards the door. He was very grateful that Madam Giry had seen fit to lodge both his father and Maximillian Daae in rooms at the other end of the house, ensuring that they would remain oblivious to all. As he ran down the hall, and descended the stairs towards the east wing, he could hear Madam Giry right behind him. Erik unlocked the door and they both entered, hoping desperately that Christine had not heard a thing.

.

.

Christine did not know how long she had been asleep, but _something_ had woken her from her slumber. At first, she did not know what it had been; only that she was now sitting up in bed, her senses on high alert and her heart beating wildly. After a few moments of nothing but silence she began to think that perhaps it had only been a dream that had awakened her, it would certainly not be the first time that had happened. But then she heard it again and she knew it had not been imagined. It was the sound of crying…no, almost screaming. As if someone was being harmed in a terrible way and was begging for assistance. Part of her wanted to leap from her bed and render aid…while the other part, the sensible side, told her to stay where she was. Yet, when the sound came again, followed by doors slamming and feet running down the hall, Christine could remain still no longer. Leaping from her bed, she hurried to her door and yanked it open, stepping out into the hallway in order to ascertain the direction the noise was coming from. Unfortunately the voice and commotion had stopped just as quickly as it began and she could hear nothing, except the ticking of a clock at the end of the hallway. She stood there for several minutes, until the frigid cold began to numb her toes and she was forced to return to the warmth of her bed.

What…_or who_…had made that noise? Was there someone in the house that was in trouble? It would be foolish for her to try and investigate; without knowing the layout of the mansion she would quickly become lost and never find her way back to her room. No, it was best to just try and forget she had heard anything at all and return to sleep.

As Christine sat there in bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, her overwrought mind began to play tricks on her. Every creak and every thump within the room was magnified a hundred times over, causing her eyes to dart to each corner, looking for danger. What if there was a murderer in the house? What if they had just killed one of the servants and was even now searching the house for another victim to slaughter in their sleep? Growing up, Christine had never been one to fear the dark but tonight, it seemed to be closing in all around her. She was shaking profusely and her heart was beating so loud, she was sure it would leap from her chest at any moment. Then she heard it, the slow and weary sound of footsteps coming down the hall towards her room. Every step came nearer and nearer, until they blessedly walked on by, passing her door and fading away.

The whole ordeal had been far too much for Christine's troubled mind, and when she realized she could take no more, she did the only thing she could think of to protect herself…she pulled the covers up over her head and cried herself to sleep.

.

.

**OH NO! Not only is she being forced to marry and produce an heir with Erik, there are screaming people being murdered in the house! Oh what will SHE DO?**

**Hope things look better in the morning...but wait, she is getting married the next day! Wow...sucks to be Christine...or not?**

**Tell me what you think of it all...  
**

**chapter 4 will be posted on Sunday!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Public Service Announcement:  
**

**For those who might have a problem with some legality issues for the time period...please remember, this is FICTION. While I did do quite a bit of research on what they would or wouldn't do (or have and not have) in England in the mid 1800s, I know I missed a lot. So please just enjoy the story as that...A STORY, and not a history lesson. If you are relying solely on THIS story to help you study for a test in school...you will flunk. ha ha.**

**We now return you to your regularly scheduled Fan Fiction, already in progress...**

**.**

**.**

**Oh look, a fresh new day has arrived - more opportunities for Erik and Christine to either draw closer...or really mess things up! Which shall it be?**

.

.

**Chapter 4**

.

.

Christine woke to the sun streaming in the windows and the sound of water being poured into a large metal tub at the far end of the room next to the fireplace. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes as she focused on the figure of Meg Giry smiling at her as she worked.

"Good morning, Miss Christine," she said pleasantly. "I thought, perhaps, you might enjoy your bath in front of the fire this morning, instead of in the bathing room. I believe it will be much more pleasant this way."

"Thank you, Meg," Christine told her as she stretched her arms over her head. "That was very thoughtful."

"I trust you slept well."

"Well enough, I suppose," she admitted, feeling surprisingly refreshed after her harrowing night.

"I am sorry, was the bed not to your liking?" Meg asked, a troubled look now crossing her face.

"No, the bed was fine, I…I was just awakened to the sound of screaming last night," she confessed, watching the young maid's face for a reaction…_and she got one_. Fleeting though it was, Meg did indeed react as if she knew something, yet was determined to cover it up.

"Screaming you say?" she asked in a flustered tone. "You must have been dreaming, miss."

"No, I am quite certain that I was wide awake," Christine assured her, rising from the bed and walking over to stand beside the steaming bath. "I even went out into the hall to see if I could hear where the noise was coming from but I was unable to locate the sound."

"Well, perhaps it was one of the other servants having a nightmare," Meg continued, doing her best to sound convincing. "Nothing for you to worry about though, so it would be best to put it out of your mind." She then set the bucket down and tested the water with her hand as she stirred up the soap within to create a lovely layer of bubbles on top. "The water is perfect, and it would be a shame to have it grow cold due to discussing such silly matters. I will go and see if the seamstresses have arrived and let you have your privacy," she stated, leaving the room quickly before Christine could argue or ask any further questions.

Meg's reaction had left Christine even more curious about what took place last night. She was positive there had been screaming in the house, there was no doubt about it. But seeing as how the curious little maid was not willing to give her a straight answer, she slipped out of her night gown and stepped into the bath with a grateful sigh.

Christine had been soaking for several minutes; enjoying the soothing bath, when it suddenly hit her…_she was getting married today_! The ladies Meg had gone to check on were coming to fit her for her _wedding dress_. It was all so surreal. If she let her mind dwell on it, Christine knew she would work herself up into a dither in no time. Had it only been two days ago that her biggest worry was studying for a Latin exam at school? Now she had to contemplate the idea of marriage…and the wedding night! But no, had her prospective husband not said he wanted nothing to do with his future wife? That he would not consummate the marriage, leaving Christine quite untouched with nothing to worry about? Yet worry she did, for any kind of marriage was still a new and frightening experience for her and she feared every moment of it.

Her worries must have gone on longer than she thought, for soon Meg had returned, informing her that the seamstresses had indeed arrived and that she needed to finish her bath in order to be fitted. Without asking permission, the young maid quickly took control and began the process of washing Christine's long hair, working swiftly and efficiently until the job was done. Christine had never been waited on in this manner before and found herself blushing profusely as Meg ushered her out of the tub and wrapped her in a luxurious towel. In the process however, Meg was given a full view of Christine's bare arms, and she sucked in a breath of shock at what she saw.

"Oh Miss Christine," she gasped, pointing to her right arm just above the elbow.

Turning her head and looking down Christine could see exactly what had startled the little maid, and truth be told, it shocked her as well. There against her pale skin was the very distinct bruising left by the viselike grip of her uncle from last night. She had been so distracted by her thoughts that she had not even noticed it while bathing. But now it was glaringly obvious and Christine felt a blush of shame wash over her at the look of pity she was now receiving.

"It…it doesn't hurt that much," was all she could think to say, as she touched the area lightly. She knew this was her uncle's doing and no fault of her own, yet for some reason she felt very humiliated by the marks. Thankfully, Meg sensed her uneasiness and changed the subject by instructing her to dry off quickly and then produced a beautiful set of underclothes the likes of which Christine had never seen. Unlike the plain cotton or the scratchy wool items she was used to wearing, these were light as air and made of silk, feeling more like a whisper against her skin than actual cloth.

Once she was dressed in her underclothes and an equally decadent corset, Christine sat down on a padded stool in front of the fireplace while Meg dried and brushed her hair until it too shimmered like silk. A quiet, little kitchen maid had brought up a plate of breakfast for her and she ate heartily while Meg worked, feeling extra famished after having gone to bed without supper. When she had finished eating and Meg was satisfied with her efforts, the group of ladies from the village dress shop were called in and they quickly set to work.

Deciding that the dress of most importance was the one for the wedding itself, they began by having her stand on the stool as they slipped the most stunning white gown over her head. The dress was all lace and satin, fitted at the waist and flaring out slightly as it cascaded to the floor. It was far too long for her small stature but before she could even mention it, two of the seamstresses were already pinning up the hem to be stitched into place. The sleeves were the perfect length, falling just past her elbows with a flared out ruffle, expertly hiding the purple bruises on her arm. If any of the women working on the dress had noticed the angry marks, they were gracious enough not to have made mention of it. Christine was a bit concerned about the neckline of the dress, feeling that it was far too low and revealing. When she commented on it, she was quickly assured that the look was quite in fashion and further ignored. Having only worn an abbey uniform for the past nine years, Christine found she had to rely on their knowledge and expertise and did not say another word on the subject.

Soon the wedding dress was fitted and she slipped out of it and into the next frock, once more standing very still in order to _not_ be stuck by the pins as the ladies worked. Each time a dress was finished being fitted, it was whisked away by one of the ladies to begin the sewing process in some other location. By the fifth dress, each one appearing more extravagant than the last, Christine's muscles were beginning to rebel from standing in one position for so long. _Was this what a scarecrow felt like_, she wondered as they had her step into the next gown, this one a deep blue color that matched her eyes. They were just about to stick in the first pin, when a knock came at the door, followed by the sound of the hinges creaking open. Turning slightly, her breath caught in her throat as she saw Erik Morant in the entryway, standing with his hands behind his back and looking just as imposing as he had last night.

"Leave," he told the startled ladies in a tone that brooked no argument. "I wish to speak to my fiancée alone."

Each of the girls gave a brief curtsy and rushed out the door, shutting it behind them, leaving Christine alone in a room with him once more. She could feel her legs beginning to shake, and she knew it was no longer from standing for so long. The silence was deafening and she stood there with her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for him to speak.

Erik's mouth had gone dry and he was unable to form any words to define the beauty he saw before him. If he had thought she was lovely before, he had no idea how to describe her now. Her hair practically glowed in the sunlight and her skin was the most pleasing shade of rose, kissed slightly by a blush of modesty as he continued to stare. The dress she wore was still a bit ill-fitting but the color and style was far more attractive on her than what he had seen her wearing the previous evening. All in all, Erik could not have dreamed up a more fetching bride than Christine. Soon he became aware of the awkward silence, and he cleared his throat to speak.

"You…you look very lovely," he told her, chiding himself for stammering. Once again just the sight of her had stolen all his confidence.

"Thank you," she replied quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"Are you feeling well today?" he continued, desperately trying to keep the conversation going.

"Quite well, sir," she assured him. "Though I feel a bit uneasy with all the attention I have been receiving. I fear I am not used to such things, having done for myself ever since I can remember."

"At the abbey, you mean?" Erik continued to probe, very curious about her past. "How long had you lived there?"

"Since I was eight, sir," she informed him.

"Erik," he corrected.

"Sir?" Christine asked, not understanding his meaning.

"Seeing that we are to wed today, I think it would be appropriate, when we are alone, if you addressed me by my given name." he explained.

"Yes…Erik," she nodded. "I suppose it would be."

"And if I may ask, how long were you enrolled at the school?" Her age had perplexed him a bit last night, for though she had appeared to be quite young, his body had easily recognized a grown _woman_ beneath that deceptive dress.

"I was in my ninth year," she informed him, realizing that he was trying to ascertain her age. It was very difficult to gauge his reaction to her words with the mask covering most of his face but she could see in his eyes that he was quickly calculating the two numbers to arrive at an answer. She hoped he would not think her too immature due to her lack of years…or then again, perhaps she did.

_Seventeen_, Erik deduced. In many ways just a child to his thirty-two years but though she was perhaps a bit inexperienced, he had sensed a hidden fire in her when she had spoken up in her defense last night. He frowned slightly as he recalled the way her uncle had reprimanded her for that act of courage, his hold on her arm being one of dominance and cruelty. Even if Erik had not been immediately attracted to Christine, he was sure he would have taken pity and done something, simply to see the poor girl set free from her relative's domineering power. Yet Erik _had_ found her attractive…and desirable, as well as a host of other emotions he was still trying to sort out. He suddenly realized there was that awkward pause in conversation again and he hurriedly thought of something to say.

"I…that is, Meg, informed me that you had misplaced this last night," he told her, pulling the small wooden box from behind his back and holding it out to her. "I didn't want you to think it had been lost for good."

Christine's eyes lit up with gratitude and delight, gracing Erik with his first glimpse of her smile. Her beauty increased exponentially in his eyes and he made a mental note to do anything and everything he could to see her smile more often.

Grasping the fabric of her skirt and hiking it up so that she would not trip, Christine quickly stepped down and hurried over to where he stood. She took the box from his hand and clutched it to her chest for a moment, closing her eyes as she said a silent prayer of thanks for having it back in her possession.

"I didn't open it," Erik assured her. "I did not wish for you to think I felt entitled to discover any more of your _secrets_, Christine." He had tried to keep his tone light, attempting to ease the tension with a bit of levity but when her name slipped from his lips for the first time, Erik could not keep his desire from escaping along with it.

Christine opened her eyes just in time to see the flash of emotion in his, before he was able to cover it over once more. It frightened her slightly but it also caused a warmth to spread through her stomach and up into her chest, leaving her a bit out of breath. She did her best to push this aside, recognizing that feeling once more, the one she still assumed was quite sinful.

"Thank you very much for returning it to me," she told him, palming the box in one hand while she ran the other one over the top lovingly. "It is nothing of true value, no treasure of diamonds or gold," she said, turning the latch and lifting the lid to allow him to see inside. "Just a pair of earrings and a cravat pin, two precious keepsakes that once belonged to my parents. Yet to me, they are worth more than the crown jewels of England."

"Your parents are gone then?" Erik guessed, berating himself as he watched her smile fade away.

"Yes…they died just before I was sent to live at the abbey," she replied quietly.

"How did they die?" he hated to ask, but he honestly wanted to know, to learn everything he could about her.

"I…I would rather not speak about it," she told him, turning her back to him and walking a few feet to lay the box on the dresser. "It was a long time ago and it…it does not matter."

"Of course it matters," Erik objected, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides. Without thinking he placed his hands on her shoulders, attempting to comfort her but his actions had the opposite effect. He felt her once again go rigid and her breath caught in a slight gasp of shock. Quickly he released her and took a step back, attempting to alleviate some of her obvious fear at his presence.

Christine was shocked, not simply by his touch but by the reaction her body had to it. It was like a tremor went through her, beginning where he had touched her and sounding all the way to the floor. Would it always be like this, his mere presence affecting her so? Was this natural or could he be a wizard of some sort, casting a spell over her through his voice and touch. If so, she must find the strength within herself to resist him, to hold tight to her own mind and resolve.

When she remained silent and did not turn or relax, Erik broached the subject he had been considering since last night. He needed to know her mind on this and he was shocked to realize just how much he hoped for a specific answer.

"Christine…I need to know if this marriage today is your choice," he said, not daring to look at her, even though she had yet to turn around. "If you were indeed listening to what I said last night, when I thought Amir and I were alone, you understand that I have no choice in this matter." At this point Christine did turn, drawing his eyes to hers quite unwillingly. "But you _do_ have a choice…or at least you do with me. Tell me now if you are repulsed by me or if you find the match distasteful and I will break the engagement, regardless of the consequences. Say the word Christine, and you will be free."

_Free?_ Oh if only that were possible. Yet the condemning words of her uncle and Lord Morant came flooding back to her, reminding her that she could never be free…not really. If she were to ask Erik to call off the wedding, her next night would not be spent in a nice warm bed at Summercrest but instead the seedy back room of some whore house. And instead of being the wife of a mysterious masked man, who planned to wed her in name only, she would be servicing a multitude of filthy drunkards in the most obscene and indecent manner she could possibly imagine. No, Christine thought sadly, she would never be free again.

"I…I do not find you…repulsive," she began, choosing her words carefully so as not to offend or give undo encouragement. "If it still pleases you, I am agreeable towards the marriage… Erik," she finished, daring to glance up at him as she said his name.

"Can you suffer through the idea of being married to a man who…who is forced to wear a mask in public?" The fact that he had to ask such a question truly stuck in his craw but it was something that obviously needed to be addressed.

Christine could see how much it upset him to ask this and while she did find the mask to be a curiosity, as well as something that made her a bit nervous, she did not feel it right to cause him undue stress over the subject.

"Just as much as you are able to suffer through the idea of being married to…a harpy," she answered, her words meant in jest and when she saw his lips twitch slightly, Christine felt a surge of pride for her efforts.

"Had I known my unthinking and harsh words would so quickly come back to haunt me, I might have chosen them with more care," Erik teased, crossing his arms and attempting to look stern, yet his tone could not conceal his mirth. "Dare I hope that your memory is not as vast as your beauty and I might one day live down the embarrassment?"

Once again, she was startled to hear him say such complimentary things about her, having never had anyone speak that way…at least not that she could recall.

"I would never dream of mentioning such things again if it caused you humiliation," she assured him, looking down at her hands as she felt a blush rise to her face. "I did not bring it up in order to shame you, I…I simply found it…amusing." Once again she was unable to keep a smile from springing to her lips.

Erik felt something leap in his chest, a part of him that he had long thought dead. Could this young maiden have somehow resurrected his cold and lifeless heart? He was not even sure such a miracle was possible, yet with her consent to allow the wedding to proceed, he was looking forward to finding out.

"If my foolish words brought you amusement and not disdain, then I will count myself a fortunate man indeed," Erik told her, stepping closer and lifting her chin up gently with his finger. "For I assure you, had I met you before I spoke, harpy is not a word I would have used." Erik stared into her beautiful blue eyes as he allowed his hand to leave her chin and brush lightly against her blushing cheek. Her skin was so soft, like a feather beneath his fingers and he found himself wondering if she was just as supple everywhere else. He released a slight moan as his body ached to find out and he swore that come that eve, he would discover the answer.

Erik might have dared to take it further, to claim her lips that all but beckoned to be kissed but a loud rap on the door caused him to stop and pull back. Straightening, he quickly regained his composure as he growled admittance. "Enter!"

"Master Erik?" Madame Giry called, sticking her head in the door. "Your father asked me to fetch you and there are five ladies waiting out here in the hall who are eager to finish their work. Might they come back inside and continue fitting your bride for her wedding, which is to take place in only a few short hours from now?" The older woman reminded them, her fondness for the two quite evident by her words and smile.

Erik looked down at Christine, whose lips still appeared far too kissable to him to possibly resist, yet he knew he must. It would not do to frighten her just before the wedding, leaving her to think she was soon to marry a man with beastly urges and no form of self-control. Which she might very well be doing but she did not need to be burdened with such unpleasant thoughts at the moment. He would take his leave and allow her to keep her innocent illusions…for now.

"Of course, Madame Giry, send them in," he agreed, turning away from his bride and stalking towards the door. He stopped just before exiting and looked back at Christine, his eyes almost scorching her with the heat of his stare. "Until the wedding then…Christine." With that he was gone.

Christine had done an admirable job of feigning confidence while he had been in the room with her but the moment he was out of sight, she stumbled backwards and sat down on the little stool quite hard. Placing her head in her hands she felt her body begin to tremble…_what on earth had she just agreed to_?

.

.

The next few hours flew by, between the remainder of the fitting, a quick lunch and then dressing for the wedding, Christine had very little time to think about the ceremony itself. Her bridal gown was perfect, the seamstresses having done a marvelous job of making it so. Meg had returned and worked her magic on fixing her hair in a pleasing fashion in preparation for the veil. Yet before she allowed it to be placed on her head, Christine made one last addition to her attire. Opening the wooden box that had just been returned to her, she took out the delicate pearl earrings that had belonged to her mother. She could hardly recall her parents, those memories still locked deep inside her mind. Yet she knew they had loved her and she had returned their affection. If she tried hard enough she could picture their smiling faces and, at times, their voices as they laughed or sang to her before bed. Would they be proud of the woman she had become? Would they approve of her marriage today? Her heart broke to think that it would not be her father who would walk her down the aisle and it would not be her mother's smiling face she would see sitting in the front row. Two things every little girl dreams of for her wedding day. Oh, if her mother and father could only know of her fears and trepidation over the match, she was certain they would not be pleased.

Yet what choice did she have? It was a wedding or a brothel…the decision was hardly a difficult one, though still not ideal. Putting on the earrings, she looked at herself in the mirror. Gone was the girl who had grown up in the abbey and in her place now stood a woman on the verge of matrimony.

"If you are ready Miss Christine, the coach is waiting outside to take you to the church," Meg stated, holding up the veil as if asking permission to place it on her head.

Christine took a deep breath and nodded her agreement, watching through the mirror as the young maid gently laid it in place, the sheer lace cascading down her back as well as covering her face. The next time the veil would be lifted would be by her husband upon the completion of their vows. _Oh God, could this really be happening? _

_._

_._

**Awwww, Erik was nice to her this time! I think he is getting the hang of this gentleman stuff! **

**And it looks like the wedding is about to happen...tune in Thursday and find out!  
**

**Did Erik do better this time? I mean he actually spoke to her AND did not kiss her face off once! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello my readers...I am posting this chapter early for two reasons...**

**1) Because it is not as long as the others and I do not want you to feel short changed come Thursday. (chapter 6 will now be posted on Thursday to get us back on schedule) **

**2) Because a certain reader threatened to hold her breath till I posted again, and since I don't want her to croak over ...I gave in...just this once!  
**

**.**

**.**

**Ok...now lets go see if the bride faints at her own wedding. ha ha. That would not be a good thing...unless she is fainting from seeing a hot and sexy groom waiting for her at the end of the aisle! ha ha.  
**

.

**Chapter 5**

.

.

Christine could hardly recall the ride to the church, the sway of the carriage and the passing scenery were all a blur to her. When the door opened, she took a tentative step out, staring at the small chapel in front of her. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, she could hear birds singing in the trees and there was even a pleasant breeze bringing with it the smell of cherry blossoms. Despite all this, Christine's heart was heavy and she feared her legs lacked the strength to carry her any further. However, her Uncle Max suddenly appeared in the doorway, heading towards her with a purposeful stride.

"Do _not_ disappoint me now, my dear," he warned in a low and threatening voice as he took her right hand and tucked it in the crook of his left arm. He then began to lead her towards the door…_and her doom_.

.

Erik had spent the day in the miserable company of his father, listening to his many long speeches about integrity, duty and family honor. It was not hard to tell that Lord Morant neither approved of, nor respected, his son. In fact with every action and word, Cedric showed his complete disrespect for Erik. This was nothing new, for even before he had been forced to hide behind a mask, the two men had never seen eye to eye. Yet four years ago proved to be the final straw and from then on, Erik vowed there would never be a reconciliation between them. Now, by forcing this marriage upon him, Cedric had closed the door on any chance of ever regaining the trust or respect of his son. When Erik had told him this, his father had only laughed, saying that as long as Erik did as he was told this day, he was welcome to hate him for the rest of his life. The family name was all that mattered to Cedric now…certainly not Erik's wishes.

So, as he stood at the altar waiting for his reluctant bride, Erik silently bid a final farewell to his childhood fantasy of a loving father figure. He recalled having the affection of an accepting parent once, for his mother had been the kindest of souls. Yet upon her death, Erik knew he would never experience it again. As a young boy, he had tried desperately to gain his father's approval but as he grew he came to realize that he neither needed it nor would ever obtain it. That could have been the reason for his wild youth, using his money and family title to get him into the best schools, travel to the most interesting places and do the most outrageous things. Looking back, he had many regrets, his trip to Persia among his most shameful, yet that was all behind him now. Today he would begin a new chapter and if there was a merciful God in heaven, of which he had doubted many times over the last four years, this marriage would not be the nightmare he anticipated.

Yet, with his compliance, Erik was not only gaining a wife, he would at last be receiving the deed to Summercrest and his father's title. Of course, the papers Cedric drew up stipulated that it all hinged on the condition that Erik provide a legitimate heir to carry on the Morant lineage. Something that no longer looked to be such a horrible chore, now that he had met Christine. Still, Erik intended to have his lawyer, Blake Calloway, look the document over carefully, just to make sure it was iron clad. He would be at the reception later that night and Erik would make sure he left with the papers in hand. Yes, if nothing else, this marriage might at least ensure the safety of all he held dear at Summercrest.

If truth be told, Erik did not see the act of matrimony as a horror, or the choice of his bride, instead it was the circumstances in which they would now be joined that bothered him. Erik would be forced to hide so many things from Christine, his face being foremost and he knew she had no earthly idea of what she was getting herself into. Erik truly did pity the poor girl.

Yet all these thoughts fled from his mind as Christine entering the chapel. He could not make out her face from behind the veil but the sight of her left hand balled into a fist at her side told him that she was far from overjoyed to be taking vows. Yet as her uncle approached, Erik knew that no matter what…this was his one and only chance for happiness with a woman. If only Christine felt the same way.

Max took Christine's hand in his, kissing the back of it in a hypocritical show of affection, before presenting it to Erik. He reached out and accepted it, feeling her tremble as he squeezed her dainty fingers gently and turned them both to face the priest.

As the old man in the robes droned on about commitment, fidelity and the bonds of holy matrimony, Christine snuck a side-glance at her soon to be husband. He was once more dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit with a white silk cravat that matched the starkness of his mask. She had to admit that if it had not been for the fact that his face was hidden from her view, he would have been the ideal image of a bride-groom. Yet just like her, Erik did not wear the typical smile that those in their position would normally bear on this day. She did note, however, that his hand was warm and did not hold hers too tightly or in a possessive manner. It was more like a supportive hold, almost comforting in nature and Christine found a measure of solace in it.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she did not realize the priest had spoken to her until Erik turned and looked at her in a questioning manner. It was then that Christine realized it was time for her to give an answer…would she take Erik as her lawful husband, to love honor and obey till death did they part? Could she? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her uncle lean forward in his seat, his hand gripping the back of the pew in front of him, causing Christine to choke on her fear before she spoke.

"I…I do," she whispered, looking through her veil at the priest who awaited her answer. With those two words, Christine Daae had sealed her fate. She now belonged to Erik…she was _his_ wife and _his_ property. And if she were to take the threats of his father seriously, which she did, she was expected to be the brood mare for his children as well. She could only hope that the things Erik had told his friend, Amir, the night before still held true and that she would be spared this fate at least for the time being. When she felt Erik slip a simple gold band on her finger she looked down, seeing it not as a symbol of their union but instead as nothing more than a shackle, binding her to his side for all eternity. Christine shut her eyes and prayed for strength.

As the last of the ceremony commenced, Erik heard the priest say his final words…_you may kiss your bride_. He was a bit ashamed to admit that he had been looking forward to those five words from the moment Christine had walked up the aisle. Having her exquisite face covered by the veil, thus the sight of her stolen from his view, had been aggravating for him. Now he only wished to lift it off and gaze upon her once more. So turning towards her, Erik did just that, revealing the loveliest of sights to his eager eyes…_his wife_. Could she be his salvation? Had he, at last, found that one person to share his life with, his joys, his sorrows…his bed? As he looked deeply into her eyes, doing his best to see past the fear he could tell was there, he silently prayed the answer was '_yes_'. Before he could stop himself or even think of asking permission, Erik leaned in and placed the most delicate of kisses on her slightly parted lips, relishing how she closed her eyes as a slight gasp escaped her. Yes indeed, Erik could easily get used to this.

When they parted, there was a round of applause from the guests, and Erik slipped his hand around Christine's tiny waist as he turned them both to face the audience. Most were business associates of his father or prominent people of society - all invited and brought there to witness the restoration of his questionable reputation. Oh there would still be the stigma of the mask, there was no way _that_ could be altered but now with his perfectly pedigreed wife on his arm, at least he would not be looked down upon for the shame of remaining a bachelor at his age. Yes, a wife would certainly go a long way towards ingratiating himself back into society. And while that meant nothing to Erik…it meant everything to his father. Giving Erik one more reason to hate him.

After the ceremony, there was the customary greeting of the couple outside the chapel, where dozens of well-wishers shook their hands and presented them with gifts of advice. Next came the procession of carriages as they all made their way back to Summercrest, where a reception was held in the most beautiful ballroom Christine had ever seen. Servants floated through the crowd, each one with a tray of tasty morsels or glasses of wine, ensuring that the guests lacked for nothing. Christine was constantly at Erik's side, smiling politely as she was introduced to one person after the next, their names and titles forgotten moments after they were spoken. Christine was certain her face would crack from the false smile she had pasted on and all she wanted was a moment alone, someplace to try and catch her breath.

Unfortunately, that moment came at the expense of her last nerve. For during a time when Erik had stepped away to speak to someone, Lord Morant approached and excused her from the couple with whom she had been visiting with. With his hand firmly planted on her shoulder, he steered her towards the deserted balcony, the setting sun betraying how late the hour had become. When they were alone and out of earshot, he released his hold and looked down on her with a smile that she could only describe as sinister.

"You did very well today, my dear girl," he told her in a patronizing tone. "I half expected you to bolt or faint dead away. You surprised me by going through with it after all."

"Did I have any choice?" she heard herself say before she could bite back the retort. Yet, she did not regret her words…at least not until Cedric reached out and grabbed her chin roughly in his hand, craning her neck so that she was forced to look directly into his cold, dark eyes.

"You will do well to remember who you are speaking to, girl," he hissed, his fingers digging into her jaw painfully. "I require your presence in this house for one reason only! If I do not see you carrying my grandchild by year's end, I will happily see that your uncle's plan to turn you into a whore comes to fruition." He then gave a sneer as he looked her up and down in the most leering manner. "I tend to frequent Madam Bordeaux's quite often, so who knows, I might even end up being your first customer." When he saw her eyes grow wide with shock he gave a low chuckle, one that died quickly as he once more leaned down towards her menacingly. "Now, have I made myself perfectly clear or must I be forced to repeat the request?"

Christine was on the verge of tears but she was unsure if it was due to rage or fear. Thankfully she was saved from finding out by a deep and threatening voice.

"Remove your hands from my wife this instant!" Erik growled, his jaw clenched so tight it was surprising he was able to get the words out.

Cedric stiffened and slowly returned to his full height, removing his hand as Christine immediately stepped back, rubbing her jaw tenderly.

"I was only expressing to your new bride my best wishes for a long and happy union," Lord Morant explained, glaring at Christine in a manner that dared her to contradict him.

"I think you have far overstayed your welcome here, _father_," Erik told him, coming to stand next to Christine, slipping his hand around her waist protectively. "It is time that you leave."

Cedric looked at his son for a long moment, the two men engaged in a battle of wills that was only broken when the older man laughed.

"I find I agree with you on that matter," he sneered, tugging on his waist coat in an effort to appear dignified. "I have never enjoyed the country life and Summercrest is far too provincial for my tastes."

"Then you will have no qualms about taking your leave," Erik continued, his eyes blazing with hatred.

"Perhaps, but I will be dropping by from time to time in order to check up on my, shall we say, _family investments_," Cedric assured, giving one final glare at Christine. "But for now, I will go." Then, with a sarcastic scoff, he turned and left.

Once he was gone, Erik relaxed his tense muscles, willing the anger to leave him as he turned to look at Christine. They had not had a moment alone since before the wedding and now that they were together, he could not think of anything to say. Yet one look at the fear and humiliation in her eyes, coupled with the way she was still tenderly touching her jaw, caused the words to come.

"Did he hurt you?" Erik asked, tipping her face up as he gently checked for residual marks. Seeing none, he gave a sigh of relief; it would have killed him to have seen her delicate skin bruised or harmed in any way.

"No…I am fine," she assured him.

Erik had left Christine's side for only a moment to speak with his solicitor, Blake Calloway, yet when he turned back around, she was nowhere in sight. Panicked, he had searched the room and connecting hallways until he had found her on the balcony being manhandled by his own father! It had taken a lot of self-restraint not to simply attack the man then and there, but that would have done little good and possibly injured Christine in the process. Years ago, Erik had sworn that he would never allow bloodlust to overtake him again. _No…never again_.

"What did he say to you?" Erik asked, having heard none of the conversation between the two. "What did he want?"

"He…he said that…" Christine began, unsure exactly what to tell Erik, but thankfully she did not have to decide.

For just then, there was the sound of someone attempting to gain the attention of the room by the tapping of silver against a crystal goblet, pulling Erik's attention away from his question. When he heard his father's voice speaking to the guests in a loud voice, he gritted his teeth and gave a low growl of anger. Reaching out, he took hold of Christine's arm and led her back inside just in time to see his father standing in front of the crowd, prepared to make a speech. Erik stood perfectly still as he waited with tensed muscles, almost afraid of what the sinister man might say.

"Friends and neighbors," Cedric began, holding up his glass as if to toast each of them. "I wish to thank you all kindly for your attendance on such a proud day for the Morant family. As you know, I am a man who has suffered much over the years," he stopped there and looked downward, gaining a round of murmured sympathies and looks of pity. "Twice I have experienced the pain of loss in my life. I also lost all hope of a future heir to continue the noble name of Morant after…well I am sure you are all aware of the tragedy that befell my son Erik, making me wonder if he would ever take a wife."

Christine could feel Erik's hand tighten around her forearm, gripping it in a fit of rage until she was forced to wince slightly from the pressure. Erik had no way of knowing he was holding her where the bruises her uncle had given her lay hidden beneath her sleeve and she did her best to endure it in hopes that he would release her soon. It was obvious that he was being greatly affected by his father's harsh and demeaning words and she found the pain she felt for his torment far outweighed her own discomfort.

"Yet, I have persevered and lived to see this day where hope has been reborn," he then turned and looked directly at Erik and Christine, raising his glass as he finished his toast. "To the happy couple, may they soon know the joys of a house full of children." With that, he took a drink from his glass, causing everyone present to follow suit. Many of them turned to look at the newlyweds as they, too, offered up their congratulations.

Christine blushed at Cedric's words, the insinuations of what he had said was not lost on her. It was becoming painfully clear to Christine that to secure her future, she would ultimately be forced to bear Erik a child. Lord Morant's threats, coupled with her uncle's, were weighing heavy on her mind. And while Christine had always enjoyed children, having spent much time with the younger students at the abbey, she had never given any thought to having one of her own…or the process involved in becoming a mother!

Erik wanted nothing more than to stride across the room and punch his father in the face, but instead, he had to stand there with a forced smile and nod while graciously accepting the well-wishes from the throng of guests surrounding them. He suddenly became aware of how tight his grip had become on Christine's arm and he quickly released his hold. He watched with regret as her other hand immediately covered where his had been and rubbed it gingerly, her eyes not meeting his. Could he do nothing besides cause this poor girl pain?

Thankfully, Cedric Morant had the good sense to take his leave within the next quarter of an hour, Maximillian Daae directly on his heels. Erik could tell that Christine had been grateful that her uncle had not even cared to say farewell, instead tagging behind Cedric as if he were a dog begging for table scraps. Yes, Cedric was his meal ticket now, but if he was not careful, Maximillian would soon feel the sting of a steel-toed boot as he was kicked by his new master. Erik had seen it before, once his father sapped a partner of his usefulness and money, he would toss him aside in search of a new idiot to bleed dry. Not that Erik felt sorry for Christine's uncle…he deserved everything that was coming to him. He only hoped that in whatever business they were now engaged, it would keep the two vile men as far away from Summercrest…and his beautiful new bride, for as long as possible.

.

.

**Yippee, Cedric and Max have GONE AWAY! Lets hope they stay away for a LONG LONG TIME and let our newlyweds have some alone time to make nice with each other.**

**And now that they are married...what do you think will happen next? Drop me a review and let me know!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Guest Reviewers:**

**Guest #1: Thank you very much for your kind words! And I will.**

**Guest #2: Wow, now THAT is a very interesting plot line...Godzilla?**

**Guest #3: I think we ALL want Erik and Christine to truly fall in love.**

**Guest#4: Don't most weddings get ruined by some overbearing family member? Why should theirs be any different, yet I suppose threatening to turn the bride into a prostitute is going a bit far!**

**DTphantom: I am glad you think so. And the story IS all finished, all 50 chapters, so no worries there!**

**Alyss: Thank you and look...Thursday is HERE!**

**.**

**.**

**Now let's go see how the rest of the reception turned out. And oh look...once Cedric left, it would appear we have the addition of a new guest...one of the Persian persuasion! Wonder what 'trouble' he will cause? (he is good at that)  
**

.

.

**Chapter 6**

.

.

As the night wore on, the troublesome guests began to leave one by one, until there were only a handful of high society remaining in attendance – much to Erik's displeasure. After a while he was pulled from Christine's side by a group of gentlemen, who now stood over by the fireplace drinking champagne while the few ladies sat in small clusters talking amongst themselves. Christine was a bit anxious about meeting some of these women, who seemed very formidable, without Erik beside her. Yet she felt it was her obligation to do so and did not wish to appear snobbish. So, when she finished speaking with a polite elderly couple, Christine gathered her courage and approached the small klatch of ladies who still remained in the room. Her nerves were placed on edge when they seemed to immediately stop talking the moment she came near. Undeterred, she pressed on, pasting on her bravest smile.

"Good evening, I wish to thank you all for attending," Christine began, doing her best to sound friendly and not frightened as she truly was.

"Yes," one of the ladies began. "Well, our husbands do quite a lot of business with Lord Morant, so we were obligated to come with them."

Christine was shocked by the woman's statement and took an instant dislike to her, quite sure the feeling was mutual.

"Carlotta!" another of the women scolded, equally stunned by her friend's harsh words. "That was quite wicked of you." She then turned her attention back to Christine, a sympathetic smile coming to her lips. "Please join us…Christine is it?" she asked, patting the seat next to her invitingly.

"Yes," she responded, cautiously taking her place where indicated. "I…I am afraid that I do not know any of your names, however."

"My name is Clair Kingsford, this is Mary Berchant, next to her is Louise Sutten and this is Carlotta Harring," she introduced, pointing out each of the ladies.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all," Christine lied, though of them all, she found that she favored Clair the most. The rest had only nodded stiffly - or in the case of Carlotta, ignored her completely.

"So tell us, Christine, however did you and Erik meet?" Clair asked. "We heard nothing of your courtship until yesterday when we received the surprise invitation to your wedding."

"We…I mean I had not…you see, it was an arranged marriage orchestrated by my uncle and Lord Morant," Christine confessed, color rising to her cheeks as she saw several of the ladies raise their eyebrows in shock.

"Really…well, that is…_nice_," Clair replied carefully, doing her best to sound encouraging, as well as diplomatic. "Yet I suppose it makes more sense, with Erik's…well…with his misfortune and all."

"Yes, it was quite the scandal when he returned from Persia that way, now being forced to wear a mask for the rest of his life," Mary agreed, causing the rest of the ladies to nod in agreement.

Christine wanted desperately to ask them what they meant but she did not wish to appear any more ignorant about her husband than she already was. So she simply kept quiet and hoped they would elaborate.

"I heard that Erik Morant used to be quite the ladies' man in his day," the next girl, Louise, spoke up. "That he had broken more hearts, on multiple continents, than Casanova himself."

"Well, now with what the rumors say his face is like, he couldn't find a girl to bed him if he paid her," the evil Carlotta chimed in, once more earning a scolding look from Clair. But to Christine's horror, she noted that no one disagreed with her statement. Shamed by her friend Clair, Carlotta turned and gave an obligatory apology to Christine for her rudeness but the young bride could tell it had not been heartfelt.

"Do not listen to what Carlotta says, she is just repeating malicious gossip," Clair told her. "None of us know exactly why your husband wears his mask, but of course, there has been speculation."

"The most circulated being that he was gravely wounded in a duel with a Persian Prince over the love of a harem girl," the one named Mary said. Christine could see the burning curiosity in her eyes as the woman leaned in closer, obviously hoping to learn some secret information. "But I am sure _you_ would know more. So tell us, Christine, why does he wear the mask? What is he hiding underneath it?"

Christine was at a loss…what could she say? She knew no more than these women did, less in fact, since they apparently had prior knowledge of Erik's past before the mask came into play. She opened her mouth to speak, unsure of what would come out, when she heard the sound of boots approaching, then coming to a halt beside her. Looking up, she found herself staring into the rich brown eyes of a very pleasant looking man of Middle Eastern descent. He had dark hair, a bit of an olive complexion and a smile that could stop a girl's heart. Yet the moment he spoke, Christine immediately recognized him as the man she had overheard Erik talking to the previous night in the sitting room.

"I do not wish to disturb your conversation, _ladies_, but I must borrow the bride for a moment," he informed them, extending his hand to her in an invitation. "If you please, my lady."

"Of course," Christine agreed, taking his hand and standing up. She turned back to the four stunned ladies, all looking at the man as if he had suddenly grown two heads. Then with a brief curtsey she bid them all good evening and followed the man over to a small settee in the corner of the room.

"Would you care to join me in a little small talk?" he asked, gesturing towards the empty seat.

"Yes, thank you," she agreed, nodding her head as she sat down, doing her best not to wrinkle her beautiful dress. If this man was indeed a friend of Erik's, perhaps he might be willing to offer her some insight into her husband's past. "Let me thank you for saving me from the clutches of those women…I fear they wished only to insult Erik and extract whatever information they might glean from me in the process."

"I am very familiar with each of those ladies and their ravenous appetite for gossip and slander," he told her, glancing back to where the four women still sat, giving them a cold stare. "Well, except perhaps Mrs. Kingsford…she is normally quite benign, yet even she can be swept along if goaded on by the other three. That is why I asked to speak with you, in order to spare you the torture of being in their company a moment longer. Allow me to introduce myself," he added quickly, his warm smile returning. "My name is —"

"Amir," she finished, cutting him off. "Though I admit I do not know your last name."

"Dessan…Amir Dessan," he told her, raising an eyebrow at the information she appeared to possess. "Dare I hope it was Erik who spoke of me and that you did not acquire such knowledge from the mouths of those three vipers? If so, I can only imagine the horrific stories they told you in defamation of my character."

"No, it was not from them at all. You see…I must confess that I came by such information under false pretenses and I beg your forgiveness for my transgressions," she told him, a blush coming to her cheeks.

"Oh? And pray tell, what sinful act has caused you to owe me such a courtesy?" Amir asked, a slight grin teasing the corners of his lips.

"I found myself concealed in the sitting room last night when you and Erik were speaking," she confessed. "I did not mean to eavesdrop but it was an unfortunate result of being so well hidden, as well as too afraid to make my presence known. Thus, I owe you an apology for listening to your private conversation."

Christine could see Amir contemplating her confession as well as trying to recall every word they had spoken when under the impression that they had been alone. It took only moments for him to break out into a captivating smile, his laughter equally appealing.

"So you heard every word did you?" he asked once he stopped chuckling. "And even after all that, you were still willing to marry a rude and overbearing sod such as Erik?" He raised an eyebrow and gave her an appraising stare. "I believe there is far more to you than meets the eye, dear lady."

"Well…that remains to be seen, sir," Christine murmured with a slight blush to her cheeks. "However, between what I overheard last night and from a few things I learned today, I do not think that my husband has yet reconciled himself to the idea of having a wife forced upon him. I confess that I, too, am a bit taken aback by the whole situation."

"Yet you seem to be holding up quite admirably," Amir pointed out. "Not many women would, you know."

"Then it would be perfectly acceptable for me to fall to pieces?" she asked, a nervous giggle escaping her lips.

"Even expected perhaps," he laughed back, enjoying her frankness and sense of humor. "Though I doubt you will. You seem to be made of sterner stuff than that." He suddenly reached out and swiped a glass of amber colored liquor off one of the passing trays and held it up to her. "And if not, I have often found that a little liquid courage works wonders."

"I was under the impression that the drinking of alcohol was forbidden to those of your faith," Christine pointed out, recalling her classes on religious customs back at the abbey.

"Yes, it is true," Amir lamented with a bit of a sigh, "Allah does forbid…yet he is also known for his forgiveness," he finished, swirling the drink around a bit before downing the contents with a big smile.

This made Christine laugh, perhaps a bit louder than intended and from the corner of her eye she saw Erik's head turn away from his conversation to look directly at her. She quickly covered her mouth with her fingertips and looked down at her lap sheepishly. Would he think she was being disrespectful or impertinent for her outburst? The last thing she needed was for her new husband to think badly of her, imagining that he had married a woman with no sense of propriety. The sisters at the abbey had often scolded her on her lack of decorum, telling her to think before she spoke and not to act so much like a child. If only they could see her now, no longer a young girl but a woman…and a married one at that.

"So tell me, Mr. Dessan, do you live nearby?" she asked, attempting to make polite conversation and not embarrass herself further.

"Yes, I am set up at a small estate a mile or so from here, I have been there for close to four years now. I enjoy visiting Erik and Summercrest as often as possible," he told her, placing his empty glass down on the small table in front of where they sat. "I suppose that means I will be seeing a lot more of you as well."

"Is there a Mrs. Dessan that I might have the pleasure of meeting?" she inquired, but the moment his face fell, Christine recalled Erik's words from last night. Of how his family did not seem to care that he had failed to take a wife thus far.

"No…I have not yet had the pleasure of obtaining such a treasure, my lady." He did his best to regain his composure, putting on the pleasing smile he had originally greeted her with. "For once, in his rather ill-fated life, I find myself quite envious of Erik, for it would appear that fortune has smiled upon him quite generously in this instance."

Christine turned slightly to glance over at her new husband once more and seeing that his attention had once again been diverted away from her, she took a deep breath and proceeded.

"Ill-fated you say? Are you perhaps referring to his reason for wearing a mask?" she asked, hoping to gain some knowledge she was sure Erik was less than willing to divulge himself.

"Ahhhh, I find myself in a bit of a pickle, it would seem," Amir said giving a weary sigh. "While I feel honor-bound as a gentleman to answer a lady's inquiry, I am also fiercely loyal to my friend and would not willingly speak about his private matters without his consent."

"Not even with his wife?" Christine persisted.

"No, my lady," he admitted. "If Erik deems you worthy to know what he hides behind the mask, then it is he that should choose to tell you. You shall not, dear lady, gain any such information from me… no matter _how_ sweetly you might ask," he added, giving her a playful wink, letting her know he was not angry for her asking.

"Is there anything you _can_ tell me about my husband that might, perhaps, lessen the tension between us?" she begged. "I would be grateful for any bits of insight you can offer that might expedite a more cordial relationship. I fear I have married a stranger today, just as he has done with me and I am finding the idea a bit distressing."

"There have been many successful arranged marriages, Christine," Amir offered, hoping to dispel her fears. "My parents did not meet face to face until the day of their wedding, the first words they shared being their vows to one another. Yet, I am happy to report that they are still together and very much in love. However, I can understand your dilemma and I sympathize with your plight." Then with a thoughtful look, he leaned in a bit closer, keeping his voice low. "I will tell you this; Erik is not as hardened as he wishes to appear. He puts up a brave front to hide the pain he has suffered throughout his life, but Erik feels very deeply. Perhaps too much for his own good, and his past is something he has allowed to continuously torment him. My advice to you would be to show him kindness, show him loyalty and above all, show him patience. If so, you will be surprised at how fiercely those things will be returned to you. That is the best guidance I can offer you, dear lady…and I pray it will be enough." He then sat back, that engaging smile appearing once more. "But for now I must bid you adieu. It would seem that my services are needed once again, this time in saving Erik from having his ear talked off by Lord Kingsford. That man can drone on and on about the production of buggy wheels until you wish to throw yourself under those very wheels in order to escape." Amir stood and then gave Christine a low bow from the waist. "I look forward to many more encounters with you, Lady Morant."

"As do I with you, Mr. Dessan," she assured him, meaning every word. Then he left, hurrying to Erik's aid.

Christine continued to sit there on the settee for quite some time, contemplating what Amir had said. _Kindness, loyalty and patience_. All fine qualities for a wife to have towards her husband, to be sure. Yet, could she find it in herself to offer him such things freely, a veritable stranger? Granted, he had been nothing but kind to her thus far - if one could overlook their rather abrupt first meeting. Though she found that she could not fault him for that, since he had thought she was spying on him. Which in retrospect she truthfully was, even if it had not been on purpose. Yet, despite their rocky introduction, they were now husband and wife, and Christine knew that her duty was clear. A wife was expected to do all she could to ensure the tranquility of a family, to support her husband and not become a burden to him. She was also expected to obey him in all matters and to fulfill her marital obligations without protests or complaint. So when faced with that knowledge, showing Erik a measure of _kindness_, _loyalty_ and _patience_ seemed the least of her worries.

.

During all this contemplation, Christine must have dozed off, for the next thing she knew she could feel a hand on her cheek, caressing it gently as a soft voice spoke her name. Opening her eyes, she was shocked to see it was Erik, kneeling down in front of her as she sat there with the side of her head resting against the back of the settee. She felt rather foolish for having fallen asleep during her own wedding reception, yet it was not as if any of the female guests had wished to further engage her in conversation.

"Christine, perhaps it is best that you retire for the evening," Erik suggested, offering her his hand as he rose, helping her up to stand beside him. "It has been a trying day for you and while I might be obligated to entertain the remainder of our guests, you are not."

"I…I suppose I_ am_ a bit tired," she admitted shyly.

"Meg will take you up and assist you in preparing for bed," he informed her, signaling to the petite maid who was already waiting by the entryway for her mistress.

"Thank you," Christine replied, daring to look up into his eyes as she turned to go. What she saw there made her heart skip a beat, for they were so piercing…so expressive. Would she ever learn what mysteries he concealed behind them? Part of her hoped the answer was yes, while the other part grew fearful at what she might find.

"Good night, Christine," he whispered as he released her hand and watched her walk across the room and out the door. He stood there for a moment, just staring after her until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he looked at Amir, knowing all too well that his friend could read him better than anyone.

"Do not push her away, Erik," Amir told him. "She wants to be a good wife to you and that is a rare quality indeed. Do not destroy your chance at happiness by keeping yourself walled off from her."

"What choice do I have?" Erik asked, his voice becoming terse. "My freedom to choose was stripped from me years ago…all I have left are secrets and lies." With that he turned and headed back to the circle of men seated by the fireplace, grabbing a full glass of champagne from one of the servants as he passed.

.

.

Christine followed Meg up the stairs to the third floor where the bedrooms were located, but she was so tired that she did not notice they were not heading in the same direction as the previous night. When the maid opened one of the large double doors to an enormous suite, complete with a sitting area, fireplace, adjoining dressing room, water closet, bathing room and the largest bed she had ever seen, Christine took a step back in shock.

"This can't be my room…it is far too lavish for the likes of me," Christine insisted. Yet, if she were to be sequestered away in her own suite from now on, this would indeed be a desirable prison.

"Of course it is your room," Meg laughed, ushering her inside and shutting the door behind them. "Where else would you be staying if not with your husband?"

Christine stopped short, her eyes darting around once more as she came to the realization that the room was already furnished by items and mementos that denoted a current occupant…a decidedly male one at that. _Oh God, this was Erik's room_!

"I think there has been a mistake, Meg," she asserted, taking a few steps back until she came in contact with the door they had just entered. "I thought I was to have my own room…in the west wing."

"Mother and I did as well. Yet by Master Erik's orders, I was to see that all your belongings were moved in here by this evening." She walked over to an elegantly carved wardrobe and opened the door to display all the new dresses Christine had been fitted for that day. "I made sure that each one was hung carefully so they would not wrinkle."

"No…this is not right, you must have misunderstood," Christine continued to stutter.

"No my lady. Master Erik was very clear on the matter," she assured her, a bit confused by her mistress's continued objections. "He even selected the evening attire that I was to have laid out for you."

It was then that Christine's eyes fell upon the white silk nightgown and matching robe displayed almost ceremoniously on the bed - a stark contrast against the black covers. _The customary attire for the sacrificial virgin, _she could only assume. She felt a wave of panic wash over her as her heart began to beat out of control. Erik had orchestrated this? She had spent most of the evening in his company, greeting guests and playing the part of his contented bride and not once had he mentioned his change of plans. Gone now were the fantasies of having her own space, of him allowing her to be that forgotten bride who might be brought out on special occasions to parade around on his arm. No, it was now painfully obvious that he meant for them to have a full and consummated marriage… one upon which Christine was not sure she was ready to commit to.

"Is everything alright, my lady?" Meg asked, cocking her head a bit to the side out of concern for Christine's apparent distress.

As she looked at the perplexed little maid, a surge of vanity came to the fore, leaving Christine not willing to display her childish fears over her current situation. No. It would not do to have the servants gossiping behind her back about how she had acted on her wedding night. If she were going to fall apart in a teary mess, it would be done in private, not in front of an audience.

"Yes, of course," she lied. "I was just surprised by the grandeur of it all. I was not expecting the room to be so…magnificent."

"Ah, yes, it is quite the suite," Meg nodded, looking around as if trying to see it through her mistress's eyes, but then she snapped back to the job at hand. "Shall I help you out of your dress now? I am sure you cannot manage the lacings in the back alone and since Master Erik is still attending to your guests, I would think you would be more comfortable in less constricting attire while you wait."

Meg then pulled an un-protesting Christine over to the dressing table and made quick work of the lacings that held her bound in her wedding dress. Once it was removed, she was left shivering in her dainty underclothes until her new evening attire was slipped over her head. While she was grateful for the meager warmth the diaphanous night dress and robe afforded, there was not much substance to it. It was a sleeveless, silk and lace garment with a matching robe that tied in the front, covering her arms as well as her legs clear down to the floor. Yet she supposed it was not originally designed to offer warmth, but in truth a heat of the carnal nature instead.

Once she was dressed for bed, the pins removed from her hair and brushed to a radiant shine, all provided by the thorough and efficient Meg, she was bid goodnight and left alone in the room. _Erik's room_.

Christine sat down at the foot of the bed, one arm wrapping around the wooden bed post as she leaned her head against it for support. She felt trapped. Trapped in a life she did not want, trapped in a lie…and worst of all, _trapped in this room_. She turned her head and let her eyes roam over the bed behind her, a shiver running down her spine at the idea of what was soon to take place. Would it be as dreadful as the girls at the abbey had said? It seemed rather strange to think that an act that propagated the species was something to be feared…it really made no sense. If it was, indeed, such a distasteful act, why on earth were so many children born every year? It left her wondering why there were not more women entering convents just to escape from performing their wifely duties? Granted, the idea of having a baby did appeal to her and perhaps it was that reward that impelled every woman to endure the act in order to attain that ultimate goal? She supposed it could be worth it in the long run.

Besides, had she not already been threatened with the command to give Erik a child? Perhaps his designs for tonight were not completely to her disadvantage. It seemed less scandalous than Erik's suggestion that she commit fornication with some stable boy in order to fulfill Lord Morant's request. Besides, Christine refused to be turned out into the streets to beg for her food or prostitute herself in order to survive. If giving Erik Morant an heir was the price to be paid…then so be it!

She looked down at the ring on her hand and gave a sigh. Yes, tonight she would indeed become not only a woman, but a true wife…and if she was lucky, a mother!

.

.

Downstairs the last of the guests were just departing, having had their fill of their host's best liquor and finest cigars. Most of them Erik could not stand at all but a few had proven to be tolerable, a smaller number entertaining…and of course there was Amir. As Erik returned to the room after seeing the final one out, he beheld his friend lying on a settee with his long legs propped up on the arm rest, his eyes half closed and a goofy grin on his face.

"At least you have not forgotten how to entertain, Erik," Amir mumbled, his speech slightly slurred.

"My blasted father was the host of this particular nightmare," Erik reminded him, lifting his glass to his lips as he downed the remainder of his drink. "If all this had been _my_ doing, the guest list would have been considerably smaller - consisting of only one name…yours."

"That is very kind of you to say, Erik. It was my honor to share in your special day…well as much as I could with your father around," Amir said, opening his eyes wider in surprise and appreciation. But then they narrowed again as he asked skeptically. "Wait…how much have you had to drink tonight."

"Apparently enough to be spouting mindless drivel like that," Erik responded, with a shrug, setting down the empty glass. "Yet not as much as you, it would seem. I believe that you are far too inebriated to risk riding home tonight, you could fall off your horse and drown in a mud puddle before you realized it."

"True, true," Amir mused, doing his best to stand up. Yet failing miserably, he laid back down in defeat.

"You can stay in one of the guest rooms, assuming you can make it up the stairs." Erik offered.

"Perhaps in a few minutes I might find the balance in order to accomplish such a feat," Amir agreed, laying his hands across his chest in an attempt to get more comfortable but his eyes remained open. "What of you, my friend? Will you be retiring to _your _bedchamber soon? I believe you have quite the lovely little bride upstairs and I think you have kept _her_ waiting long enough."

"I have not quite decided what I will do…or _not_ do…with said bride," Erik informed him, his tone betraying his annoyance.

"Come now Erik, I know it has been a while but surely even you know what is expected of a groom on his wedding night." But as quickly as the words were out of his mouth, Amir sat up, supporting his upper half with his elbows, as he looked at his friend in shock. "Please tell me that you still don't intend on going through with your self-imposed pledge of celibacy! Good lord man…have you _seen_ your new wife?"

"Don't be an ass, Amir," Erik warned, far too tired to engage in a verbal battle with the Persian.

"Well," Amir said with a roll of his eyes as he lay back down and got comfortable again. "Now you are just tying my hands."

Erik stared at his friend a moment more before turning and leaving without another word. He could have sworn he heard snoring already coming from the room as he closed the door behind him.

He climbed the stairs to the third floor, wondering what he might find when he got there. Erik's mind recalled the words he had said the night before when talking to Amir. About how he had wanted nothing to do with his soon-to-be wife and he knew that Christine had heard him. Yet after that first kiss…no, even before that, Erik knew that any chance of that being the case had quickly gone up in smoke. He would be a complete fool not to pursue the pleasures of marriage now. And Erik might be a lot of disreputable things, but a fool was not one of them.

When he reached his door he stopped, taking a deep breath and gathering his wits. He would have to proceed with caution, of this he was certain and he suddenly wished he had not consumed so much alcohol during the party. His mind was a bit hazy and he worried about losing his self-control…a thing he had sworn _never_ to do again. It would, indeed, take all his faculties in order to handle this delicate situation correctly. So squaring his shoulders, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

.

.

**Eeeeep! Oh no, what will happen next? Will things go well...or badly...or really, really badly?**

**Will Erik be a gentleman? Will Christine be a lady? Will Amir ever make it upstairs?**

**Tune in Sunday and find out!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Guest Reviews:  
**

**Guest #1: Amir IS awesome, hu! And yes, we will see Clair again.**

**Barefootballerin: I am so glad you are keeping the faith that Amir will make it up the stairs. Let's see if your faith paid off...**

**Melstrife: you get HALF your wish...and look...Sunday has ARRIVED!**

**.**

**Also, I forgot in my last post to congratulate Firelily18 for being my 100th reviewer! ****We are getting VERY close to 200...who will send in THAT review? You?  
**

**.**

**Ok, now let's go see if we can find the answer to your burning question..."Will Amir make it up those pesky stairs...alive?" I know it has been eating away at you all for days! As well as the less important question of "will Erik and Christine consummate the marriage?" Read on and find out...**

.

**Chapter 7**

.

.

The room was a bit dark, with only a few oil lamps burning as well as a crackling fire in the hearth. Erik's eyes scanned the area until it settled on the vision he sought… Christine, _his wife_. She was sitting on the far side of the bed, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. When she saw him glance her way she stood up, her hands laced in front of her as she stared back at him. She looked beautiful, the firelight casting golden shadows through her hair and across the pristine night-robe she wore. He had personally picked that one out from among the trousseau that had been ordered along with the dresses that morning. When he had spied it, he knew he wanted nothing more than to see her in such seductive attire. Now here she was. Yet, he could instantly tell that something was not right, that his wife was more than nervous…she was shaking like a leaf! Clearing his dry throat, he began his attempts to put her mind at ease.

"Come here," he instructed, his words perhaps a bit commanding but his tone he kept low and gentle. He watched her hesitate for a moment and then her chin came up and she slowly approached, never taking her eyes off of his. When she stood directly in front of him, he reached out and ran his hand down the strands of her loose hair, lifting a few stray curls off her shoulder and letting them fall down her back with the rest. "You look…lovely," he told her, his voice hardly above a whisper.

Christine blushed and looked away, causing him to reach out and tip her chin up, turning her face back to him.

"Tell me, what has you so concerned," he requested, having a good idea what her answer would be, yet, he wanted to hear it voiced, for fear that he may have jumped to the wrong conclusions.

"I…I was just not expecting…I mean I thought you had said that you and I would…" Christine had done her best to sound sure and confident, but her false bravado was fading fast.

"Would be married in name only?" he finished for her, watching as she turned pink with a modest blush and nodded slowly. Erik gave a heavy sigh and reached out to take her hand, leading her over to the plush sofa by the fireplace. Directing her to sit down, he reached up and removed his constricting cravat, as well as his jacket, before he undid the top few buttons on his shirt, making himself a bit more comfortable. However, his comfort seemed to come at the expense of hers and she averted her eyes as even a minute amount of his skin came into view. This was going to prove harder than he thought. "Christine, I am going to ask you something and I need you to be perfectly honest with me. I do not want you to lie to me or avoid answering in order to spare my feelings, understand?"

Christine felt a wave of anxiety flow through her but she nodded in agreement.

"It is no secret that my father has manipulated us both in order to get what he wants and I am well aware that he spoke to you about his demands last night in great detail. I can also imagine that this was the subject of your private discussion on the balcony tonight, though from what I observed it appeared to be more of a threat then a conversation." He shook his head sadly and ran his fingers through his hair before he continued. "I will make no excuses for him. He is the devil himself and has been that way for as long as I can remember. But I want you to know, that no matter what he said to you, I swear I will not let his threats come to pass. You are my wife now and I protect what is mine. You have nothing to fear from him, or your uncle, Christine. So please, tell me truthfully, what has you so frightened? What is it your uncle holds over your head that would make you so compliant to his wishes?"

Christine's mouth dropped open but no words came out. Dare she tell him? Could she even say such words out loud? It was both frightening and embarrassing and if she gave voice to them, it would make them real, thus more likely to come true. Yet from what she saw in his eyes, Erik was telling the truth and she trusted him to keep his word. So swallowing her deepest fears, she spoke.

"When…when my parents died, I was placed under the guardianship of my Uncle Max," she began, her hands clenching and unclenching in the fabric of her silk robe. "He paid for my tuition at the abbey, but I always knew he had no love for me, seeing me as nothing more than his obligation. When he came to fetch me yesterday, telling me that I had been promised in marriage, he made no secret of the fact that it was for his monetary gain alone that the wedding would take place."

"Yes, I am sure my father promised him a substantial reward for your compliance in this matter." Erik nodded, understanding the financial aspect of many of his father's underhanded deals. "Is this why you did it…to please him?"

"No! I would rather spit in his eye than do anything to please my uncle," Christine assured him, her tone revealing her level of hate for the man.

Erik found he could not help but smile at her spirit, glad that she was not some dutiful starry-eyed girl willing to obey whatever her elders demanded of her.

"Then was life at the abbey so terrible that you saw marriage as your only means of escape?" Erik persisted.

"The abbey was dull and I knew I would never be persuaded to take vows myself and remain there, but it was not unbearable," she admitted.

"Why then? What would cause you to agree to such an arrangement?" Erik felt bad about being so inquisitive when it was evident that she did not wish to divulge her secrets, but he had to know. "You must tell me, Christine. I cannot protect you from danger if I do not know from what direction it is coming." Once more he reached out, this time running his fingers down the side of her soft cheek. "Please, my beauty, confide in me."

Christine could hold back no longer, her pent up fear and anxiety bubbling over in the form of words and tears.

"My…my uncle…he said if I did not do as he wished, he would…would sell me to a brothel to become…a whore!" With the uttering of her last humiliating word, Christine's composure dissolved into tears and she buried her face in her hands in shame, missing the burning hate that flashed up in Erik's eyes.

"He would do this to his own niece?!" Erik roared, causing her to flinch at his tone. "That bastard!" He looked at her for a moment more, trying to fight down his anger. "Is that what my father threatened as well?"

"He…he said that if I did not give him a grandchild within the year…he would see that my uncle's threat was carried out," she confessed, her voice taking on a desperate manner as her breathing sped up until she was quickly becoming hysterical. Suddenly, without thinking, she reached out and grabbed hold of Erik's lapels, pulling him in closer to her in a frantic manner. "I can't do it, Erik…I won't lower myself in that manner…I won't be turned into a prostitute!" And because in her now panic-stricken mind, the only way she saw out of that fate was to comply with their wishes, she leaned in and brought her lips up to meet with his in an attempt to initiate the act that would provide her salvation. Christine was petrified, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Erik knew that his bride was overwrought, that she was only kissing him out of fear and anxiety. Yet when he felt her warm lips on his, everything else seemed to fade away. He brought his hand up and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him as his other hand began to slide up her cheek. Erik deepened the kiss, doing all he could to ease her fears by giving of himself in a way that would be mutually beneficial. It has been so long since he had felt this way and it was beginning to consume him in the fires of want.

Christine had shocked herself by her actions but now, as she felt his tongue slide across her lips, beckoning her to give him access, she once more sensed that overwhelming need begin to overtake her. It ignited in her stomach and spread outward until it caused every fiber of her being to resonate with a tingling sensation. Her hands unclenched from his jacket and began to slide upward and across his broad shoulders. Somehow this man was capable of quieting her fears and maidenly hesitations, leaving in its wake an overwhelming need. If this is what it took to secure her future, then so be it…Christine was through fighting.

"Christine," Erik moaned as he broke contact with her lips and began to trail hot kisses down her throat. "Tell me to stop now if you wish it…I cannot be held accountable for what will take place if you do not," he warned, never allowing himself to be more than a breath away from her soft skin.

"No…" was all she could say, her mind still at war with her own body. "I am your wife. I…freely offer myself to you."

"Yes, you belong to me," he stated, pulling back as he looked into her eyes. "No one will ever touch what is mine! Not your uncle, not my father and certainly no vile man in a seedy brothel! But I do not want you to do this out of desperation or fear for your future. I will never let them harm you, I can keep you safe…do you believe me?"

Christine hesitated only for a moment; for as she looked at the man whom she had taken vows with that very afternoon, she could tell that he not only had the desire to protect her - but possessed the means to do so as well. He was her knight, her hero…_her husband_.

"Yes…I believe you," she nodded, still a bit breathless.

Erik could see that she spoke the truth, and it gave him a surge of pride to know he possessed her trust in this matter at least. There were still so many secrets that lay between them, but those could be dealt with later. Now, he needed to touch and feel her, to explore every inch of her body and commit it to memory. Without breaking eye contact he pulled on the satin ribbon that held her delicate robe together, watching as it parted and gave him access to what lay beneath it. With skilled hands, shaking from years of denial, he began to slide the garment off her shoulders and down her arms.

"Don't be afraid Christine," he whispered, still seeing that dreaded emotion hovering there in her eyes, her tears building as she fought to keep them in.

"I…I don't know what to do," she confessed.

"You just said you believed me, now I ask you to trust me as well, can you do that?" he almost begged, the pain he felt in his chest over her fears was almost as great as his need for her.

"I will…try," she assured him, wishing she felt as confident as she was trying to appear. "Sister Margret said…that a good wife should obey her husband in all matters."

At her words Erik pulled back, his brows beneath his mask knitting together in concern. He was about to speak when his eyes fell upon her arm as the robe slipped down and he was instantly brought up short. As he stared at the dark purple finger marks, the concern in his eyes was replaced with a frenzied madness.

"Where did you get those?!" he growled, but then he stiffened up as he gasped out his next words, it causing him physical pain to ask. "Did…did_ I_ do that when I grabbed hold of you today?" His hand reached out, visibly shaking as his fingers hovered over the purple bruises that had been revealed. He quickly pulled back, looking at it with an almost hate-filled stare. Had his blood-stained hands caused damage again? Had he once more brought harm to an innocent lady with his lack of self-control?

"No!" Christine was swift to assure him, seeing the almost frantic look in his eyes over the sight of her injury. "No, Erik, it was my uncle. He is the one who caused these…not you."

Erik searched her eyes, desperately probing for the truth, and when he found no deception in her words, he let out a sigh that spoke volumes. It would have driven him mad had he been the cause and he had the sudden urge to lean in and kiss away each and every angry mark. Instead he stood up, walking a few feet away as he tried to calm his rage. He was unsuccessful and the contents of a small end-table became the hapless victim of his all-consuming fury, swept to the floor in a disastrous crash. The sight of the bruises brought forth far too many horrible memories for Erik and when he looked over at his new bride and saw her cringing against the arm of the settee, he felt his heart fall in his chest. He was frightening her; he had reduced his own wife to tears in his presence. _He truly was a monster._

"Please…Erik," she began, holding back her panic over his outburst. "I…I didn't mean to anger you. Tell me what you want, and I will do it…I can be a good wife, I swear!"

"Stop saying that!" he roared, wishing to cover his ears as the past seemed to resonate all around him. "You owe me nothing, least of all your unquestioning loyalty or obedience!"

"But…I do," she argued, her voice still meek and frightened. "I swore today before God to honor and obey you…it is my duty."

"You also promised to love me as well, yet I can see you are finding _that_ particular requirement impossible," he countered in an angry voice, as he began to pace back and forth in front of her. "When I look into your eyes, I see only fear and yet you would allow me to touch you, to make love to you simply because you feel obligated to do so? That is not right!"

Christine pulled back, cringing as she tried desperately to bury herself deeper into the corner of the lounge. His tone was placing her back on the verge of hysterics.

"I thought…I thought that was expected of a good wife," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "I don't understand! What do you want from me?"

Erik looked at her in shock and horror as Christine suddenly faded away and was replaced by the face of another…one with raven hair and dark eyes. He shook his head frantically to erase such images, the pain the vision caused almost leaving him doubled over in grief and shame.

"What do I want...?" he repeated, his breaths coming out in labored gasps. "I…I want you to go to bed, Christine!" he ordered, grabbing his jacket off the back of the lounge and storming to the door. "Just go to bed and forget this whole damned thing ever happened!" With the slam of the door he was gone.

Christine threw herself forward on the lounge, burying her face in the cushions as she sobbed hysterically. Everything was ruined now. Erik hated her, or at least was repulsed by her, and she had no idea why. Were the marks on her arm so repugnant that he found her ugly and not pleasing to the eye? Was her boldness in initiating the kiss a slap to his masculinity and position of authority? What had she done to earn his scorn and anger? She laid there for some time, crying until she had no more tears to shed, then slowly, almost reluctantly, she extinguished the lights in the room and crawled into bed. At the very least she could fulfill his wishes in this small matter…and soon she fell into a fitful sleep.

.

.

Amir had finally been able to rise from the settee, his fuzzy brain making everything much more difficult than normal. When he made it to the bottom of the stairs he paused, unwilling to go up just yet for fear he might fall back down. He decided that a brisk walk outside might be just the thing to clear his mind before making a second attempt. So veering to the left, he instead headed out the back door to the gardens behind the manor.

Once outside, the crisp night air of spring did wonders to focus his thoughts and steady his steps. The crickets were chirping amid the breeze in the wind, creating an almost musical quality of the night. He took a few cleansing breaths and was about to return to the house when he spotted a lone figure sitting on a bench to his right.

"Erik?" he asked, watching as his friend raised his head from his hands to look at him.

"What are you doing out here, Amir? I told you that you could take one of the guest rooms tonight," Erik reminded him, far too distracted to further chastise his friend. "Did you get lost?"

"Did you?" Amir countered, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck thoughtfully. "Shouldn't you be upstairs…with your wife?"

"_My wife_?" he all but scoffed. "My frightened little captive is more like it."

"Erik…I don't understand," Amir admitted, coming to sit down next to him.

"That makes two of us, Amir," he said, once more leaning forward as he ran his hands through his hair sadly. "This is all wrong…every bit of it. A husband and wife should love one another, or at the very least trust each other before being thrown into marriage. Yet the woman up in my room does neither. She cringes and cowers before me, asking me what I want from her, swearing that she can be a good wife to me! Those words alone almost brought me to my knees but when I saw the bruises…those damned marks on her perfect skin…all I could see was…"

"Emily," Amir finished, his eyes growing sad as he lowered his head in regret. Then as Erik's words sunk in he looked up questioningly. "Bruises? You didn't…"

"NO! Never!" Erik interjected, disgust coming to his eyes. "They were the result of her uncle's biting grip, not mine." _Or at least that is what she had claimed…he only prayed it was true._

"Forgive me, my friend," Amir begged, feeling guilty for his rash assumption. "I was a fool to ask."

"Yet it was not inconceivable, was it? Not after…" he could not even bring himself to voice the rest of his thought.

"Do not continue to berate yourself like this, it will not change things and it does no one any good." Amir placed his hand on Erik's shoulder and tried his best to comfort his friend.

"Yet nothing I have done since that fateful night has accomplished any good…has it?" he asked. "If I could go back in time and change things, I would. If only I had not let my temper rule my actions…if only I had shown self-control."

"You know my feelings on the matter and have for many years…I will not bore you with another rendition of them," Amir told him with a sad sigh. "Just know that the past is just that…the past. You need to let it go and look to the future for once, because that is what Christine can be for you…your future. I spoke with her tonight and she is a rare and amazing woman, you would do well to try and open up to her. You both have been thrown together in the most awkward manner and yet, you have a chance to emerge stronger and wiser for it. It would appear that you fear displeasing her just as much as she does you. Talk to her…show her that you want her trust, not simply her obedience or fear. If, in time, you can gain that, you might just, in turn, acquire her affection."

Erik looked up at his friend, hope springing to his eyes.

"Do you truly believe it is possible?" he asked. "Could such a miracle take place…especially with a face like mine?"

"I _have_ to believe in miracles, Erik," Amir told him, his eyes taking on a look of despair. "If not…then what hope is there for me, old friend?"

Erik nodded, realizing that Amir, too, fought the battle of a broken heart and it pained him even more to know that he was to blame for that as well.

"But how do I gain the trust of a woman who quakes in fear whenever I am in her presence?" Erik asked.

"Slowly and over time," Amir suggested. "You only met her yesterday. Let Christine get to know you, spend time with her, and for heavens' sake _talk_ to the girl, don't just give orders or bark commands. Ask her opinion on things, find out her hopes, her dreams and desires, then do what you can to fulfill them."

Erik leaned back against the bench, contemplating his friend's words silently. After a bit he stood up and looked back at the mansion thoughtfully.

"Again, I am in your debt, Amir," he told the kindly Persian. "I will take your advice and tomorrow, Christine will see a whole new side to her terrifying husband. It is the least I can give her."

"It is a start anyway," Amir nodded. "Now get going before you lose your nerve."

"Are you sure you do not need me to assist you in getting upstairs?" Erik grinned.

"I have been taking care of myself, as well as you on occasion, for some time now. I think I can manage to climb a few pathetic flights of stairs," he retorted, feigning irritation at his suggestion.

"Very well then, just do not let me find you at the bottom of the steps in the morning with a broken neck," Erik warned.

"I will do my utmost and not be so rude as to ruin your breakfast with my gruesome death," Amir said, rolling his eyes.

"I would appreciate that very much," Erik thanked him as he headed into the mansion, leaving the Persian alone in the garden.

Amir sat there for a while longer, thinking of all that they had just talked about. He could see why Christine's words would have pained Erik so much, for they brought back echoes of the past for him as well. He shut his eyes and shook his head, willing his heart to stop aching for what he knew he could not have. When he opened them he allowed his eyes to rise upwards to a particular window on the third floor of the east wing. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the face of a dark haired beauty looking down at him. It lasted only a moment, for when she noticed that he was staring back at her, she quickly yanked the curtains closed and was gone…leaving Amir alone in the moonlight.

.

.

Christine was jarred from her sleep by the sounds of movement in the room, causing her to stiffen up as she lay silently in place. She could hear the rustle of clothing, the tell-tale sound of boots striking the floor as they were removed and then the feel of the bed giving way under the weight of someone lying down beside her.

Erik had returned…but for what purpose? Her heart was beating frantically, waiting for him to reach out to her - to make his intentions known…but no touch came. At last, she dared to turn over, searching in the blackness for some indication of what she should do.

"Erik…?" she began, shaking with fear.

"Go back to sleep, Christine," came his voice in the dark. To her relief, he seemed neither angry nor upset, simply tired. "We will speak of things in the morning. Now it is best we both get some rest, nothing can be resolved at this late an hour." And as if that was his final word on the subject, she felt him turn over on his side and face away from her.

Christine did the same, rolling over so that her back was to him once again. Yet, even with the distance between them, she could still feel the heat from his body radiating across the space as it warmed her. She had run the gambit of emotions this day and even though she was still a jangle of nerves, her body quickly succumbed to exhaustion and she was soon fast asleep.

.

.

**Wow...that was...intense! AND a bit confusing hu? Lots of clues were just thrown at you. Good thing you have a few days to process it all before I post again, hu? **

**OH NO...looks like we never did settle the burning issue of "Will Amir make it up the stairs!?" Guess you will have to wait till next time to find out for sure.**

**I can't wait to hear what you THINK is going on...I will never tell you if you are right or wrong, but I LOVE to hear your guesses! **

**And if some of you are concerned over a few of the things Erik just said...remember, NOTHING is as it seems. hee hee.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Public Service Announcement:**

**If anyone out there is looking for Lady Rosesong's story "Phantom's Beauty" it has apparently been moved to a place called AO3 and is posted there under the same title. I do not know why, so please don't ask me, ha ha. But it is there.**

**.**

**Guest reviews:**

**Melstrife: You are welcome. Great guess on the Emily thing. And you make me sound like a magic lamp...I don't just give out wishes, they simply happen to come true every now and again, I have no control over them, ha ha.**

**Guessst: Hello again faithful reader! Wondered when you would find my new story - you said you would be haunting my profile till I posted. Well here it is! Now where are the back reviews you promised me, hee hee  
**

**Whimsical music note: you have your PM function turned off so I couldn't respond personally - I am happy you are enjoying the story and I post every Sunday and Thursday. So mark your calendar! **

.

**Now, here is a nice LONG chapter for you - to get the story moving along and I think I will throw in a few more clues to the mystery! **

**And you WILL learn if Amir made it up the stairs this time...I promise!**

**.**

**.**

**Chapter 8**

.

.

Once more the blinding sun that streamed through the large windows bathed Christine in light and drew her from her sleep. Her first thoughts were instantly of Erik. She remembered that he had slept beside her all night…but was he still there? She laid very still, her ears straining to hear his breathing or any sound that would alert her to his presence. When she neither heard nor felt anything, she slowly turned over, giving a sigh of relief when she saw that his side of the bed, while rumpled and obviously slept in, was indeed empty. He must have woke early and snuck out while she was still asleep.

Christine most definitely recalled him returning last night and slipping into bed beside her, causing her panic to return. Yet he had done nothing but sleep…or at least she assumed he had, for she had no recollection of him doing anything different. She had slept very soundly, not recalling a single dream during the night, which she found very strange. With all the excitement and turmoil she had been put through in the last two days she would have expected her nightmares to have returned tenfold. Perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion of the events that had made her sleep dream free. For whatever reason, she was grateful for a good night's rest and now that she pulled back the covers and stepped out of bed, she knew she was going to need it.

Erik must have woke earlier and wishing to avoid any contact with her, left to attend to his duties for the day. Perhaps he had changed his mind once more and now intended to isolate himself from her again. If that were true, she should probably not get used to calling such a fine room as this her own. Any room in the mansion was still far more lavish than she was accustomed to but she found she would miss this particular one. It was just so warm and inviting and the view out the windows was spectacular…truly the master suite.

Christine was just about to search out the water closet in order to take care of her morning needs when she heard something at the door. At first she thought it might be Meg coming to help her dress, but the rustling continued without a knock or the door opening. Then she heard giggling. Not the laugher of an adult finding humor with something but instead it seemed to be the sound of a child. Walking to the door she quickly opened it, only to find no one was there. She looked to the left and then to the right, but there was no sign of anyone, child or adult. Had she been hearing things? Then she looked down and saw a small bouquet of daisies, several of them wilted and crushed from what would appear to have been over-exuberant hands clutching too tightly. She scooped them up and put them to her nose, inhaling deeply and smiling at the pleasant odor they held. Someone had given her a gift but who could it have been? Perhaps one of the servant's children? Well, whoever had left them, the gesture was very much appreciated and made her smile in spite of her situation.

Christine finished her morning ritual and then went to the wardrobe and pulled out one of the new dresses Meg had hung there yesterday. She was not sure what her day would entail so she chose a more sensible gown than a fancy one. Yet since all of them were far more stylish than she ever thought to be wearing, she still felt rather fashionable. Just when she was beginning to wonder how in the world she would manage lacing it up alone, there was a knock at the door, signaling the arrival of Meg…right on time.

"Good morning, my lady," Meg greeted with a polite curtsey. Christine noted how her eyes darted to the rumpled and used bed sheets, perhaps assuming what should have taken place there last night…_oh if only she knew the truth_. Yet it would be scandalous to discuss such things with the servants and she could only imagine what Erik would think if she dared to air their dirty laundry in such an inappropriate manner. No, she would hold her tongue and let Meg believe whatever she wanted.

"Meg, I asked you to please call me Christine," she reminded her as the maid came over and took the dress from her hands.

"Yes, Lady Christine," she agreed, a blush coming to her face for having been corrected. "I will try and remember."

"And I hardly think I am a lady either, so you can drop that part as well," she continued.

"Oh no, you_ are _a lady for sure," Meg corrected. "Master Erik might not officially be a lord yet, since his father is still alive, but you are currently the only Lady Morant that Summercrest has. It would be highly disrespectful for me to address you any other way, so please do not ask me to."

"Very well, but it might take some time for me to get used to it," she smiled, stepping out of her night dress and into the gown Meg now held.

It didn't take long before she was ready for the day and Meg had informed her that breakfast would be served in the dining room in just a few minutes. Christine felt her back stiffen when she was told that Erik would be joining her there at half past. What would she say to him? Would he even speak to her? He had said that they would discuss last night's fiasco in the morning and it was certainly morning now. She wondered if she could fake an illness, something dreadful that required her to stay in bed and have no one come near her for fear that they too might become infected, but that was the coward's way out. And as frightened as she was…Christine was _not_ a coward.

So taking a deep breath she headed for the door but stopped when her eyes came to rest on the handful of daisies on the dresser. Stepping over to them she picked out a few of the more healthy looking ones and slipped them into the folds of her hair, smiling in the mirror as she appraised her work. They gave her a cheery and confident air on the outside, something she was definitely lacking within. With one final nod at her reflection she made her way out the bedroom door and down the grand staircase, heading for the dining hall using the directions Meg had given her.

Summercrest was enormous, with hallways that led to the left and more of them that led to the right, all tying into the large main entryway. The dining room doors were shut but she decided it was appropriate to enter without knocking. After all it was a common area, not some private chambers. When she stepped inside she let out a small gasp at the sight before her. The room was bigger than she ever dreamed, with marble floors, a high ceiling and three spectacular chandeliers positioned over a table so long it could easily seat forty people or more. And there, at the very head of it sat Erik, looking not at all lost or overshadowed by the magnificence of the room. When he saw her enter he stood up and took a step to the side, giving a slight bow.

"Good morning, Lady Morant," he greeted her, much the same as Meg had done earlier.

Christine cringed slightly, believing that his formal way of addressing her was not a positive sign. How could they ever hope to become sociable if custom and code remained between them?

"Good morning…Erik," she returned, doing her best to sound at ease with the use of his name. Yesterday he had asked her to address him thusly but now she felt unsure of his wishes.

"Please join me," he invited, gesturing to the chair at his right and waited until she had approached before pulling it out for her in gentlemanly fashion. "I hope you had a pleasant night's rest," he offered, his voice still stiff and formal as she sat down, allowing him to push the chair in for her. He then returned to his own seat, all the time watching her from the corner of his eye.

"Yes…I slept very well…all things considered," she told him. She had not meant to say that, but somehow her desire to get the troublesome subject dealt with overriding her fear and timidity.

Erik turned and looked at her, surprised that she would bring up the topic herself…and so quickly. Still, it caused him a measure of relief that he would not have to find a way to broach such a delicate matter himself.

"Indeed," he said slowly, reaching out and taking his teacup in his hand and sipping its contents thoughtfully. "I would imagine that the events of last night were…distressing for you."

"More…_perplexing_, I must admit," she answered, unwilling to look at him. "I…I do not pretend to know how married couples normally act around one another, I have had very little firsthand knowledge of such family civilities. However, I feel that we somehow got off on the wrong foot last night and I wish for nothing more than to understand what I did wrong." She continued to keep her head lowered, looking down at her hands that were wringing together in her lap. "Did…did I displease you in some way?"

Erik let out a low groan, rising to his feet as he stalked over to the tea cart and poured a second cup, setting down the silver teapot a bit harshly, causing the tray to rattle. He stood there with his back to her for a few moments before he turned around and returned to the table, placing the china cup in front of her almost as a peace offering. He sat in his chair once more and cleared his throat before speaking.

"You did nothing wrong, Christine," he informed her, though his tone of voice did little to convince her of this. "It is I who must take full responsibility for what transpired last night."

"You?" she questioned.

Again Erik was silent, staring at the cup in front of him as he let his fingers run around the lip in slow circles. How could he explain this to her when he hardly understood it himself? If he told her the true reasons for his trepidations and concerns he would have to reveal all his secrets and that was one thing he was not prepared to do. He had spent the better part of four years keeping such things from his father, half the staff of Summercrest and the rest of the world. While Erik was certain he could easily continue to hide it all from his new bride…he wondered if he should. He desperately wanted to take Amir's words to heart, to find a way to gain her trust and affection, but so many years of scorn, ridicule and self-loathing convinced him otherwise. Erik was a condemned man and the mask he wore and the guilt he carried was his sentence. No, he could not confide in her, but neither could he let her go. She had brought a glimmer of hope to his otherwise dark existence and he was not ready to let that flame die, not yet…_not ever_.

"I…I was unkind to you last night and for that I wish to apologize," he said, his voice low and full of shame.

"No, you owe me no apology," she countered. "It was I who acted presumptuously; I was not a proper wife and I…"

"STOP!" he growled, his fist coming down on the table in anger, making the teacups rattle on their saucers. Christine pulled back, cringing at the rage in his voice. Erik saw her reaction and gave a heavy sigh of regret, he _must_ learn to control his temper…_he simply had to_. Once he had calmed down he continued. "By making the deal with my father and binding you to me in marriage, your uncle robbed you of your freedom of choice. Treating you more like property, or mere chattel, than a human being. And while I know you agreed to go through with this when I asked you yesterday, I now realize that you still felt trapped by his threats and ultimatums. I will not let either your uncle or my father harm you in any way, I take care of what is my own and I will defend it fiercely, have no doubt of that. Still, I refuse to add to your fears by forcing you…" Erik shut his eyes and gave a pained sigh. "…by forcing you to accept our marital bed."

Christine's heart was racing by now, his words leaving her tense and slightly embarrassed as well. While she knew it was her duty to lie with her husband, it was quite another thing to hear him speak of it out loud like this. Yet if they did not consummate the marriage, could it be considered legal? And how on earth would she ever become pregnant without performing the act as well?

"I only ask that you remain at Summercrest and accept your role as lady of the house," Erik said, looking up at her for the first time, their eyes locking as he continued. "I do not expect you to love me, I am the first to admit that I am quite impossible to get along with, but it would make me…_happy,_ if you agreed to stay. I will see that you are cared for, protected and want for nothing if it is within my power to provide it. While you shall be my wife, I will not expect you to render any marital dues to me unless _you _desire to do so…and are quite willing."

"But…your father…he…he is expecting…" she protested.

"To hell with what my father wants!" he growled, his hand tightening into a fist at the mention of that man. "And your uncle can follow him there as well, for all I care! They are no longer any concern of yours. You will do as you please in this house and not live in fear of their abhorrent and unreasonable threats. Other than your duties as lady of Summercrest and my hope that you will allow us to become better acquainted, I hereby return to you control of your own life…and body."

Christine was speechless. Was he serious…could he truly mean everything she had just heard?

"You…you would do that for me?" she questioned, disbelief showing in her eyes.

"I wish for you to feel safe and happy here," Erik told her, his body stiff as he fought to control his emotions. "This is your home now and should you wish to stay…no one will ever force you to leave it."

"I…" Christine began, wishing she could find the words to express her shock and gratitude. "Thank you, Erik. I truly…"

Christine wished to say more, but suddenly the dining hall door opened and in came a young girl carrying a tray with three plates of food. Erik straightened, immediately transforming himself back into the stoic and stern master of Summercrest as the kitchen maid approached. She sat one of the plates down in front of Erik, the second before Christine and then the third one to the left of him.

"Who is that for?" Erik asked, pointing at the extra plate.

"Master Dessan," she explained nervously, unsure if she had committed an error of some sort. "We assumed he would be joining you for breakfast when we discovered that he had stayed the night."

"Amir…of course," Erik nodded, having completely forgotten his friend had occupied one of the guest rooms the previous night. "Very good. Thank you, Bridget."

The young girl gave a curtsey and headed for the door, almost running into Amir as he entered just then. After a brief exchange with Bridget, mostly consisting of apologies for their near collision, he allowed the little kitchen maid to scurry off, her cheeks blushing red. As he made his way to the table his eyes fell upon Christine and his smile brightened even more.

"Well it is about time you arrived," Erik scolded him, crossing his arms over his chest and giving him a disapproving look. "Did you imagine we would hold breakfast forever, or at least until you saw fit to rise? I wouldn't be surprised if the food was ice cold by now."

Christine looked over at Erik questioningly and from the slight lift at the corner of his mouth, she could tell he was having some fun at his friend's expense.

"A thousand pardons, Master Erik," Amir replied with a low bow, his sarcastic tone revealing that he did not mean a word of it. "How rude of me to keep you waiting like this. However, does the fact that you did not find my mangled body at the bottom of the stairs this morning put me back in your good graces?"

Christine had no idea what Amir was referring to, assuming it was a private joke of some sort, but due to the way the two were acting she could not help but let a small giggle slip out over their jest. When Erik turned his eyes to her, she quickly sobered, placing her fingers over her lips in apology as a blush came to her cheeks.

Erik had been taken aback by the sound of Christine's laughter, so far only having heard it once and very briefly from across the room at their reception last night. The sound was very pleasing, almost infectious and he knew that just like her smile, he desired to experience it again and again, ringing through Summercrest at all times. If only he could discover how to achieve such a feat. But it would seem that his taking notice of her mirth had ended the spontaneous outburst and now it was gone.

"Fine, you are forgiven," Erik said, returning his attention back to his friend. "Now sit down and eat before it truly does get cold."

Amir complied, immediately digging into the delicious looking food as if he had not eaten in a week. Christine and Erik began to eat as well, though they continued to maintain a polite silence while they did so. Christine could not get over the things Erik had said, for she had never expected such an offer to be made to her and she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Yet she knew in her heart that no matter what Erik had said…she was honor bound by her vows to fulfill her duty as a wife. He might not expect it of her, but she expected it of herself and she would not shame either of them by not committing to such things. However, the brief reprieve he had offered her was indeed a blessing, though one she would not long abuse. At some point she must offer herself to her husband again, she simply did not know when that time would be, or how to go about doing it.

The lack of conversation must have been irritating to Amir because eventually he began to speak just to end the silence. He asked Erik of his plans and if he would still be joining him on some hunt they were already scheduled to go on the following week, or if he might rather wish to stay closer to home for a while. Christine felt both men's eyes on her when this was suggested, realizing that Amir was hinting to the fact that Erik might want to remain at home because of her. She was not sure if she was relieved, or offended, when Erik expressed his desire to maintain their plans to go hunting. Yet she could hardly fault the man for carrying on with his life and duties as the master of Summercrest. Just because he had taken a wife did not mean all his thoughts and actions should now revolve around her, the notion would be ridiculous.

Amir's questions had caught Erik off guard and he now felt a twinge of guilt over the idea of leaving his new bride alone for almost two days in order to go hunting. From the moment he had laid eyes on Christine in the sitting room, all his thoughts had revolved solely around her, not wanting them to be parted for even a moment. Yet to remain so close would be torture as well, for with proximity came longing and that lead to desire. It was like placing a savory dish directly in front of him and then forbidding him to sample even one bite. He knew that the restrictions were by his say alone, for it was only obvious that she had been prepared to submit to him last night, but he did not want her _that_ way. No, if it was not consensual – both from her mind _and_ body – he would not touch her in that manner.

Erik was sure he would have been able to seduce her, to carry her along on the wave of his lust until she had begged him to take her, but that too would have been a violation of her free will and the idea equally disgusted him. He could only pray for strength and hope that one day Christine might come to accept him, possibly even grow fond of him. _Fond_…what a bland and tasteless word when he instead craved passion and desire.

Christine was enjoying listening to the two men converse, liking the lighthearted way they spoke to one another. She found she was rather envious of this, for she wished that Erik would speak to her in such a manner, instead of the short and brusque sentences he had so far. As his wife, it would behoove her to learn how to engage him in a true conversation but she was simply not sure how to go about it. In truth the only men she had come into contact with in the past eight years was her uncle or the occasional priest, none of which were eager to carry on any sort of dialog with her.

Yet as she continued to listen, she found herself smiling behind her napkin or cup of tea at the two men's jovial sparring, making it obvious that they were old and true friends. She was having such a nice time just listening, that when Amir suddenly directed a question to her, she almost dropped her fork in surprise.

"So tell me, Christine, what was it like living in an abbey?" Amir questioned, sitting back in his chair and sipping at the tea he had just retrieved from the cart.

"It…it was fine," she answered, looking from Amir to Erik and then back again. She was unsure if she should be conversing with him in such a manner without her husband's permission…was it proper? Yet Erik showed no signs of being cross with her, in fact he placed his elbows on the table, laced his fingers together and looked almost interested to hear her answer. "It…it was not the most exciting upbringing but it was comfortable and stable."

"Comfortable and stable?" Amir said with a playful snort. "Sounds as if you are describing a chair more than a life."

"Yes, I suppose it does," Christine said with a smile.

"Did you have many friends there, a gaggle of bosom companions you were loath to abandon?" he continued.

"Hardly," Christine scoffed, but then quickly caught herself and regained her composure. "I mean there were always girls there to speak to and visit with but very few were full time residents like me. Most of them I did not share much in common with either, including age." She looked up and seeing a flash of pity in both men's eyes she quickly added. "Please do not think I was unhappy though, there was plenty to keep me busy. I studied many subjects, learned gardening, cooking and sewing as well as enjoyed singing in the choir."

"You sing?" Erik asked, his interest immediately piqued.

"Some. Though there were many others who were much better than I," Christine said modestly.

"I would very much like to hear you sing sometime," Erik said, already imagining what her delicate voice might sound like raised in song.

"If you wish," Christine agreed, feeling a bit shy at the attention her husband was now giving her.

"Yes, that is a skill that will come in handy when you two are invited to parties and intimate dinners," Amir commented, rising to pour himself another cup of tea.

"When was the last time an invitation of _that_ nature arrived at Summercrest?" Erik asked his friend in a sour tone.

"You're a married man now, Erik," Amir pointed out, sitting back down at the table. "With a wife comes a measure of credibility you were sorely lacking as a confirmed bachelor. Now that you have proven to the world that you are not beyond redemption, that there truly was a woman out there who would willingly accept your sorry hide, such invitations would not be unheard of. You know it is always the ladies who organize social gatherings and single gentlemen are often seen as the odd man out at such functions. Now that you come with a built in partner for whist or cribbage, you might find that your evenings will be filled with dozens of social engagements."

"Good lord I hope not!" Erik said with a roll of his eyes. "I had just about as much socialization as I could stand last night and had hoped that I had filled that quota for the year."

"_You_ might feel that way, but what about Christine?" Amir pointed out, causing Erik to turn and look at her questioningly.

It had not occurred to him that by keeping to himself he might be isolating Christine as well, depriving her of feminine companionship.

"Would _you_ enjoy evenings of singing around the piano or playing cards with the other couples of society?" Erik found himself forced to ask.

"I…I suppose I would…as long as you wished to attend as well," Christine answered carefully. "However, if such evenings were hosted by a few of the ladies I spoke with last night, I would much rather stay home." She stated firmly, thinking that if she ever laid eyes on that Carlotta woman again, it would be too soon.

"What women?" Erik asked, his eyes narrowing protectively at the sound of the hurt in his bride's voice.

"Those vipers from your reception," Amir quickly filled in. "I spied them sharpening their claws last night, aiming to make Christine their prey, but I swooped in and rescued her." He then gave Christine a wink and another one of his winning smiles. "Of the four, Lady Kingsford is by far the most civil, but I wouldn't put anything past the other three demons, especially Carlotta."

"I can only imagine what _she_ had to say," Erik said, his eyes ablaze with hate.

When Amir saw that Christine was staring at them with a perplexed expression he began to explain.

"Carlotta Herring had set her sights on Erik almost ten years back," he began, seeing no harm in telling the story. However Erik apparently did _not_ agree.

"Amir, I would recommend you hold your tongue if you do not wish for me to cut it from your mouth," he warned, his voice a threatening growl.

"Come now, don't you think it is best your wife know the truth about her?" Amir challenged. "If you do not tell her the facts, then she will only have the witches' word to go on and you wouldn't want that…would you?"

Erik had to concede that his friend had a point, yet he did not feel comfortable enough around Christine to speak of such things just yet, so he simply sat back and waved his hand in permission for him to continue. Understanding what Erik was _trying_ to say, Amir turned back to Christine.

"You see it was about the time that Erik and I met at university, Erik was in his final year and I had just arrived from Persia to finish my education. At the time my father had been appointed as ambassador here in England, so it was my opportunity to study abroad. No big surprise that I was not looked on favorably, being new as well as foreign. One day I found myself backed into a corner and being advanced upon by five rather large classmates. I suppose I do not have to tell you that their intentions were not simply to ask if they could borrow my notes from class."

"Oh my," Christine gasped, leaning in slightly out of anticipation and fear. "What did you do?"

"Very little actually," Amir laughed, turning his eyes towards Erik with a look of admiration. "Erik here stepped in like the angel of death and pretty much vanquished them all before I hardly had time to land a single punch."

"Good God man, that is not how it happened at all and you know it," Erik scoffed, not daring to look at Christine for fear she might see what little of his face that showed turning red from embarrassment. Thankfully his mask shielded most of that from her eyes.

"That is how I recall it taking place and I am the one telling this story, not you," Amir reminded him, holding up his hand to silence any further protests. Erik simply rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest once more as the story continued. "By dispatching the five bigoted lads, Erik saved my life and I have been indebted to him ever since. You see, we Persians take a life debt very seriously and from that day on I made it my goal to repay the favor."

"Which you did quite thoroughly," Erik once more huffed, staring at his friend through squinted eyes. "And since your debt is paid, please feel free to leave Summercrest at your earliest convenience and never return."

"That was a lovely story of how you two met," Christine jumped in, knowing that Erik did not mean a word of what he just said. "Yet that does not explain why Carlotta was so mean and spiteful last night."

"Well in a way it does," Amir corrected her. "For you see, one of the fellows that Erik bested that day was Carlotta's brother. When her father learned of this, he forbid his children to have any further dealings with the Morant family, thus destroying Carlotta's hopes of pursuing Erik."

"Thank God for that!" Erik praised, relief echoing in his voice. "I would rather have had a love sick cow following me around than her!"

"Ever since then Carlotta has acted quite horribly towards Erik," Amir explained. "Almost as if she believes he had beaten her brother on purpose, just to be rid of her."

"Who's to say I didn't?" Erik asked. "You can't imagine I did it solely to save your sorry hide."

Once more Christine had to laugh at the comical look the two men exchanged as they tried to show disdain for one another. Yes, she could easily see that they were as close as brothers and would defend each other to the death.

"I thank you for the information, sir," Christine told him, grateful for his willingness to be open and honest…a quality she hoped Erik would display to her in time. "It is helpful to know my enemy better in order to properly defend myself. They caught me off guard once with their probing questions and backbiting ways, it shall not happen again."

"_You_ are the mistress of Summercrest," Erik reminded her, his tone one of conviction. "If it be your wish, they will never step foot in this house again."

Christine was taken by surprise at Erik's words and while she was very glad to hear such things, she was not quite sure how to respond. Thankfully the silence was broken by Amir, who pushed his chair back and stood up. He announced that he needed to depart, claiming that he had several meetings scheduled that day which could not be postponed.

"That is fine, I think you have more than overstayed your welcome already," Erik agreed sarcastically, rising as well.

"And I look forward to enjoying your warm hospitality again soon," Amir assured him with a laugh. Then as if something just occurred to him, his face sobered and he leaned in towards Erik with a serious look on his face. "May I speak to you in private before I go?"

"Certainly," Erik replied, all traces of their lighthearted banter disappearing.

Amir and Erik excused themselves politely, leaving Christine at the table while they walked towards the door, their voices now hushed whispers.

"Erik, before I leave, would it be all right if I…I mean could I possibly…" he seemed unsure how to ask his favor and yet Erik understood completely.

"Of course, my friend," Erik agreed. "I will ask Madam Giry to take you up. Just…don't expect much."

"I understand," Amir nodded with a pained but hopeful look on his face.

They had reached the dining room door by then and Erik paused, turning back to where Christine sat.

"Christine, will you please join us," he called, watching as she rose from her seat and made her way briskly to his side. He extended his hand towards the door, allowing her to go first as he and Amir followed behind. "I asked Madam Giry to assemble the staff in the main entry after breakfast in order to present you to them. I believe it would be good for them all to meet the new mistress of Summercrest."

Christine immediately felt panicked, not so much because she was meeting new people, but due to the fact that she felt very inadequate as the lady of this grand house. Would they even accept her as such?

True to his word, when they arrived at the entryway there was indeed over a dozen servants all waiting patiently in line for their master. Erik first pulled Madam Giry aside, signaling towards Amir as he spoke in a low voice, conveying his instructions. She nodded her compliance and with a curtsey towards Christine, she left the room, followed by a subdued Amir. Erik then turned back to her, introducing her to each person down the line by name.

Christine knew it would take a while to familiarize herself with each one, but they all seemed kind and eager to please. There was Meg, of course. The stoic butler, Mr. Bower, who had showed them in the night she arrived. Next came the cook and four kitchen maids – Bridget being one of them - two more upstairs maids and three for downstairs, a grounds keeper and his three assistants as well as a stable master and his stable hand. Each one either bowed or curtsied in greeting their new mistress, offering words of welcome. However, when Christine came to the end of the line and was introduced to Joseph, the stable master, his odd grin seemed to give her an eerie feeling. Nothing she could put her finger on, but he seemed to give off the same aura that she had always associated with her Uncle Max… and that made her shiver.

"Are you cold?" Erik asked, obviously noticing her involuntary shudder.

"No…no I am fine," she assured him, his question pulling her attention away from the line of servants. "It was just a passing chill."

"Perhaps I should send Meg to fetch a wrap, for I had hoped to give you a tour of Summercrest," he offered, signaling for Meg to come forth.

"No, truly, I am quite warm," she insisted. Not wanting to bother the young girl to retrieve something she was not in any need of. "However I would enjoy seeing your home very much," she told him with a pleased smile.

"_Our_ home," Erik corrected her. "After all, you are the lady of Summercrest, are you not?"

"I…I suppose I am," she told him, lowering her eyes a bit.

"Then shall we?" he asked gesturing towards one of the long hallways to the right.

When she nodded, he quickly dismissed the servants, allowing them to return to their duties while he walked her down the corridor. Erik found that he was now on her right side and noticed for the first time the little white and yellow daisies she had decorating her hair. He smiled to himself, wondering if she knew that daises stood for innocence and purity.

"The flowers in your hair are quite becoming," he told her, eager to converse with her now that it was just the two of them. He had been jealous of the way Amir had struck up a conversation so easily, while he seemed to flounder. So complimenting her seemed the safest way to proceed, he certainly couldn't go wrong with that.

"Thank you," she smiled, reaching up to touch them as if she had forgotten they were there. "I found them outside my…I mean _our_ room, this morning. I don't know who left them but I could have sworn I heard the giggling of a child. Do any of the servants have children who could have left them for me?"

Erik suddenly stopped, his abruptness almost causing her to run into him. When she turned slightly to look up at him he seemed to have lost all the color in his face…or at least the part not hidden by the mask.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, not knowing what she might have said to cause him distress.

"No…I…I just recalled a matter I need to take care of," he stammered, as he took a step backwards. "Perhaps we can continue the tour after lunch? I am sure you can find something to occupy your time until then. I will send Meg to see to whatever you need." Then with a quick bow, Erik turned and headed back down the hall, his long legs covering the distance quickly with each stride.

Christine was left alone in the long corridor, staring after her perplexing husband. What had just happened? Things had been going so well until he had commented on the daisies she wore. She reached up and pulled one of the offending blossoms from her hair and stared at it, twirling it around in her fingers. Things were becoming more and more curious.

.

.

**Oh great...NOW what's got Erik's panties all in a twist? They are just daisies! Sheesh!**

**And where did Amir run off to all sneaky like? That was a bit rude if you ask me...which nobody has.**

**So is the mystery getting even more convoluted? "Oh what a tangled web I weave, when Erik practices to deceive" hee hee.**

**Please review! Can't wait to hear what you think.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Guest Reviews:**

**Melstrife: That is OK, I can think of worse things to be thought of than a magic lamp! ha ha. And hmmmm, did Emily leave the daisies for Christine? Oh that is a good question. Keep reading and you will find out...eventually, ha ha.**

**Guessst: First of all I was only kidding about the back reviews...BUT...if you feel like doing it, I will NOT argue. Oh yes, it WAS pretty obvious who they two men were, hu? And it sure was heating up in there. *fans herself a bit***

**Anon: So glad you are enjoying it. Chapters will be posted every Sunday and Thursday!**

**JoAnne: Thanks for enjoying the story! I WILL keep posting, but for now I must keep it to only two chapters a week - but maybe later I might add to that.**

**.**

**Also, congratulations to Bensara91513 and her book, The Secret Door, for the awesome publicity it is getting! If you type in "militant recommender The Secret Door" in your search engine, it should take you to the write up. Be sure to check it out on the FF site as well - it is an awesome read!**

**.**

**Now lets see what new trouble our couple can get themselves into, shall we? **

.

**Chapter 9**

.

.

_Damn it to hell!_ Erik thought to himself as he stormed down the hall towards the east wing. That woman had _one_ job, one simple job and she still manages to mess it up. The daisy incident could have ruined everything and he simply could not have Christine finding out about his past this soon. He needed time to earn her trust, to get to know her first, then perhaps they could find enough common ground for him to confide in her. But not now…_not yet_. As he neared the door at the end of the hall he felt his frustration rise up in his chest.

"Rose!" he yelled as his palm slammed against the door, thrusting it open with a loud bang.

.

.

Christine had remained standing in the hallway, not knowing what to do until, as promised, Meg came and found her.

"Master Erik asked me to escort you back to your room so you would not get lost," she said, smiling as she signaled for her to follow.

"Would it be all right if we did not go directly back to the room?" Christine asked, catching up with the spritely little maid. While the room was lovely, she had not seen anything there that could occupy her time till lunch. If she was to be forced to remain there until he summoned her, then she would like a diversion. "Does Summercrest have a library perhaps?"

"Certainly, I could take you there first if you wish," Meg offered, immediately changing directions as she headed for the new destination.

When they arrived at two large double doors Meg left her there alone, promising to come back in a little bit, giving her time to find a book to read. Anxiously Christine opened the door and peeked in, her eyes growing wide as she stepped inside. She realized that she had yet to see all the rooms Summercrest had to offer, but Christine found it difficult to imagine another one she might like better. The floor to ceiling windows let in just the perfect amount of light one might require to peruse the hundreds of books that lined each wall.  
When you had successfully chosen one, the comfortable seating area in front of the fireplace seemed the ideal place in which to lose yourself in the story. Christine could just imagine the many hours she would spend curled up on the settee as the fire warmed her body and a tale of adventure warmed her spirits.

With a huge smile she practically ran to one of the shelves and began to examine the books, title after title. She had already discovered one volume she wished to read by the time Meg returned, eager to escort her back to the room as the master had instructed. Christine would have liked to tell Meg she would find her way back on her own, but perhaps it was too soon for that, not wishing to upset Meg or go against Erik's orders. So holding the volume to her chest, like the treasures it was, she happily followed the little maid back to her room. Once there she positioned herself at the window and delved into the story eagerly.

It was almost an hour later and she was many chapters into the book when something out the window caught her eye. It was Erik and Amir. _That was strange_, she thought to herself. The friendly Persian had told them he had important things to attend to back at his home and yet he was now just leaving? She had found it odd that he had left with Madame Giry when Erik was introducing her to the staff, but had become so distracted she had forgotten all about it. Yet here he was just now mounting his horse and saying his farewells? Christine wondered where he had been and did it have anything to do with the reason Erik had postponed their tour of the estate? It bothered her that there seemed to be so many questions and mysteries and no answers to be found. She only hoped that things would improve and Erik would soon tell her all she wanted to know. But for now, Christine was content to sit in her room and lose herself in the land of fiction.

.

She was only two chapters away from finishing the book when she suddenly became aware of someone standing beside her. Looking up with a gasp of shock she stared at the amused smile on her husband's lips as he stood in front of her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I did knock," he assured her. "But apparently you were so engrossed in your reading that you did not hear me."

"I am sorry," she sputtered, laying the book down as she stood up, placing her hands behind her and looking downward as if she were a repentant child. "I…I mean…it was just such a fascinating story."

"There is no need to apologize," he assured her, leaning down and picking up the tome as he examined the title. "It would appear you found the library."

"Yes, Meg showed it to me on my way back to the room," she affirmed, but suddenly her head came up and her eyes grew fearful. "I hope that was all right, it was I who asked her to take me there, so please do not be upset with her for doing so."

"Christine," Erik said with a sigh, reaching out with his empty hand to run his finger lightly under her chin. "You are not a prisoner here and I do not mind that you visited the library. I only asked Meg to escort you back here for fear you might become lost in the maze of halls and rooms before I could show you around." He then turned his eyes back to the book. "Did you find the room to your liking?"

"Oh yes, very much!" Christine assured him, the look of excitement returning to her eyes at the thought of the magnificent room. "The library at the abbey was extensive but contained mostly volumes on religion or academics. However you have such a wide-range of titles that in just a few minutes I found multiple books I have been longing to read."

Erik could not help but smile back at her enthusiastic response, very happy that something of_ his _brought such an engaging smile to her face.

"Over the years I have found reading to be a comforting escape," Erik told her, not meaning to sound so grim, yet the truth of the matter was that without those books he might have gone mad by now. He cleared his throat and handed the volume back to her. "Would you like to finish it now? We could delay lunch if you wish."

"No," Christine insisted, setting the book down on the seat. "Shakespeare can wait; after all he has been dead for some time, so I do not think he will feel slighted by my absence."

Her jest made Erik laugh, a sound that had been sorely lacking from his emotional repertoire as of late. It felt good, he decided, with Christine it felt right.

"Then shall we?" he asked, extending his arm towards the door. Erik's first instinct had been to offer her his arm, to escort her to the dining hall like any gentleman would. Yet, he quickly changed his mind, thinking such familiar contact was still too soon. Perhaps in time things _would_ improve…he could only hope.

Lunch was a simple affair, served in the dining room once again but with only the two of them it felt a bit…tense. They exchanged short sentences, comments on the weather and the taste of the food, but the majority of the meal was eaten in silence. Without Amir there to break the ice, Erik once more felt reserved and unsure of what to say. _This was ridiculous_, Erik chided himself. For years he had flattered and seduced ladies of every station, from barmaid to countess, using his charm, alluring speech and roguish good looks. Yet now, four years later, he was a social pariah, an outcast among people of breeding and all for the lack of a displayable face. He had resigned himself to solitude, doing his best to right the wrongs he had committed and somehow atone for his sins. Yet now, when he had been blessed with this delicate gift, this slip of a girl who willingly took his name, he was left helpless to her charms. Each look she cast his way, each word she offered him and each smile that graced her lips was his undoing. He needed to regain mastery over himself soon or he feared he would make a fool of himself.

When lunch was concluded he once again offered her the tour of the estate. They began with the ballroom, where their reception had been held, Erik's personal office and adjacent greeting rooms, which was followed by a tour of the kitchen area. Madame Giry was there, already overseeing preparations for dinner and she gave Christine a warm smile as they entered. However she cast a stern look at Erik when she saw how he kept his hands securely clasped behind his back, not daring to touch his wife at all. He noticed her glare but chose to ignore it, not even giving her the satisfaction of looking guilty…though he certainly felt it.

Next came three different sitting rooms, one being the room where they originally met, the memory of the kiss they had shared there causing her to blush. When he took her to the next room, the conservatory, she found her breath was stolen away by what she saw before her. In the corner was the most spectacular grand piano she had ever seen, all black and polished to perfection. She wished they could have lingered but Erik seemed eager to continue the tour and so they left the room behind…much to Christine's disappointment. Their next stop was the sun room and solarium, which led out to a magnificent patio with stone benches and decorative topiary trees strategically positioned all around. Christine was duly impressed and shared her shock and awe with Erik, making him swell with pride. He enjoyed how her eyes lit up and the small gasps that escaped her lips were almost euphoric. Oh how he longed to solicit such expressions from her for other…more private, reasons. Yet he had given his word that he would not force the issue, it would be her choice and hers alone.

"Your home is magnificent," Christine told him, leaning over the patio railing as she surveyed the adjacent grounds.

"_Our_ home," he once more had to correct her.

"It will take some time to assimilate that idea," she told him, still lost in wonderment. "It is a far cry from the simple abbey where I grew up."

"Where did you live prior to the abbey?" Erik asked, turning his back to the rail and leaning against it so he could examine her face. "Where did you call home before that?"

"I…I lived…" Christine began, her head tipping a bit to the left as a faraway look crossed her face, doing her best to grab hold of that fleeing memory. "I lived in a grand apartment in the city," she said at last. "It was very large, at least to the eyes of a child, with an upstairs and downstairs and I think in my room there was a canopy bed all decorated in a pale pink." She became quiet for a moment, lost in her thoughts.

Erik did not speak again, patiently waiting for her to return to the here and now without disturbance. When she did, Christine blushed and looked away, embarrassed by her mind's temporary departure.

"It sounds very nice," he told her, drawing her eyes back to him.

"I wish I could remember more, but it was so long ago and I was very young," she responded.

"I do not mean to pry and I understand if it is a difficult subject, but I would like to know more about your past, your family and what became of them," he pressed. "Yet, I will be patient and wait for you to feel comfortable in your new surroundings before I request such things from you."

"Thank you, I appreciate your kindness," she nodded, unsure if what little she could remember would satisfy his curiosity. It certainly didn't pacify her own, why should it sate his?

Erik could tell she was uncomfortable with the conversation so he gestured that they continue the tour, next taking her upstairs to the many bedrooms, pointing out certain ones that held significance. He indicated towards the stairs that led to the attic, choosing not to go up, citing clutter and dust as the main reason.

"No one has been up there in some time and Madame Giry would be horribly offended if I chose to show it to you without giving her ample time to see that it was first put to rights," he explained. "She takes her job as housekeeper very seriously and I would hate to get on her bad side."

"Has she been with you long?" she asked, eager to know the woman's history as well as her daughter's.

"Almost four years now," he answered quietly. "Though it seems like a lifetime." Once more Erik's voice took on a lamenting quality, as if the memory caused him some unrevealed pain. Christine was quick to change the subject in hopes of his mood improving.

"What is down this way?" she asked, pointing to a long hallway that they had yet to explore.

"The east wing," Erik answered, his tone now becoming hesitant, almost defensive. "It houses the servant's quarters for those few who live on the premises, such as Madam Giry, Meg and Mr. Bower. I do not think it would interest you."

"I would love to see every part of the house…" she began, taking a step towards the corridor, but Erik's hand on her wrist stopped her short.

"No!" His curt command took her off guard. "You do not need to be in that area, I leave it for the servants and I will not have you undermining my concessions with your presence there. You are forbidden to go there! Do you understand me?"

Christine took a step back, pulling her hand from his grasp as the memory of her uncle saying similar words while gripping her arms roughly flashed back to her mind. Erik had been so kind all day, so gentle and accommodating and now in an instant he had transformed into a completely different person. Why did he not want her to go into the east wing? What was he afraid of, for it was definitely fear she saw in his eyes.

"I understand," she whispered, tucking her hands behind her back so he would not see her rubbing her wrist where he had touched her.

Erik felt like a heel; he had once more let his temper flair, spoiling all the progress they had made that day. He wanted to kick himself for his rude manners and threatening order. Yet the east wing was the one place he_ must_ forbid her to go or all would be lost…if it wasn't already.

"I didn't mean to sound so gruff," he began, desperately trying to mend fences. "It is just imperative that you obey me on this matter."

"If it is your wish, I will obey," she assured him, unwilling to meet his eyes.

_Damn it,_ Erik felt like he was right back at square one, with Christine unwilling to even look at him.

"Would…would you like to see the gardens and the stables?" he asked attempting to interest her in something else, anything but the east wing.

"Perhaps another time," she murmured, looking anywhere but into his eyes. "If it is all right, I find myself a bit tired and would like to return to the room and take a short nap," she told him.

"Of course it is all right," he assured her, taking note that she did not call it _their_ room…or even her room. "Let me show you the way." Erik reached out to take her hand but she stepped back even further.

"No…I am fine, I remember the way from here," she told him, giving a short curtsey. "Thank you for the tour…Erik," she whispered before turning and walking back down the hallway, perhaps a bit faster than normal.

Christine was on a mission, wishing only to escape to the master suite and hide herself behind closed doors before she was overcome with tears. And sure enough, the moment the door shut behind her she broke into deep sobs, throwing herself on the bed face first as she buried her head in the pillow. She knew Erik was hiding something, it was plain as day from the expression in his eyes and his gruff forbiddance. But it was his tone, words and grip that had upset her the most, once more reminding Christine of her Uncle Max, his threats and punishing hold. Erik's touch had not been cruel like his, but it still startled her, causing her to flinch and pull back in fright. How could she ever agree to give herself to him when the smallest contact caused such tension and fear? Christine had to remind herself that it had only been two days and time was needed to become familiar with another person. Yet while he had offered her that gift of time…she wondered if it would ever be enough.

.

.

Erik was furious with himself. He had been rude and domineering, everything he had sworn he would not be with Christine. Even Amir had warned him against such actions, but did he listen…apparently not! As he stormed down the hallway towards his study he thought back to the conversation he had with his friend a few hours before as he prepared to leave Summercrest.

_"Thank you for allowing me to see her, Erik," Amir said gratefully as he pet his Arabian's neck thoughtfully._

_"I warned you not to expect much," Erik reminded him, seeing his friend's saddened face._

_"I know…but I am grateful none the less," Amir assured him. "May I offer you some advice in return for your kindness?" he asked, looking up at Erik hopefully._

_"Will I like it?" he asked warily._

_"Christine is a fine woman, she is smart, caring and has the potential of making you a fine wife." Amir assured him. "I know you are wary of…well, everyone…but do not let those feelings drive a wedge between you and her. Show her that side of you that I remember, the Erik who could make all the girls swoon at his feet and refuse him nothing. If you allow that man to return, she will not be able to resist."_

_"That man is long gone," Erik growled, shaking his head. "He died four years ago and this monster before you took his place."_

_"You do yourself wrong by saying such things," Amir responded sadly. "I have been your friend for many years now and I alone know just what you are capable of when it comes to matters of the heart. Please do not ruin your chance for love with Christine…I know from experience that it might not come again once lost."_

_Erik bowed his head as he felt a stab of guilt pierce him. He watched as his friend mounted his horse and with one final nod, departed for his home, leaving Erik alone with his thoughts._

And now he was alone once more in his study thinking of all the ways he had sabotaged the pleasant day they had been having. Starting with his sudden departure to confront Rose for her incompetence. However, his intended scolding was somewhat less than affective as the woman had turned the tables and instead reprimanded him for his lack of attention over the last two days. In the end he had left properly chastised with his promise given to make himself more available. Then Amir had given him more to contemplate with his words of warning, leaving him almost nervous when he dared enter their room in search of his bride at lunchtime.

At first Erik had thought Christine was angry with him, not answering when he knocked and called out to her. But when he saw her sitting on the window bench, completely engrossed in her reading, his fear had turned to amusement. She looked so much like an enraptured child, devouring each word as if it were the sweetest candy, turning the pages eagerly. It took several minutes for her to notice him standing there, but he had enjoyed every second of stolen pleasure as he examined her. Christine's eyes were wide, her breathing had quickened and she would bite down on her lower lip in excitement as the plot apparently climaxed. She was mesmerizing and Erik ached to see those expressions given solely to him one day. Even now, just recalling her features was making him yearn to be near her, to touch her and to know the taste of her lips once more. Yet to do so now would be torturous to him, for he was right back where he started, a stranger to his own wife. A wife that feared him, and rightly so after the way he had just treated her. There was no way around it though, if keeping his secrets hidden meant keeping her at bay…then this was how it must be.

His hand balled into a fist and came slamming down on his desk, causing several of the glass objects to teeter dangerously before righting themselves and becoming steady once more. Why, damn it?! Why did things have to be this way…_why_?

.

.

Hours passed and Christine had long since cried herself to sleep, waking only when she heard a knock at the door. Rising swiftly and wiping the dried tear stains from her cheeks she called out admittance, holding her breath as she waited for Erik to enter. Yet it was not Erik at all, but instead Meg who peeked around the door cautiously, stepping inside with a curtsey when she saw her mistress standing there.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, my lady," she said, acting a bit nervous. "Master Erik asked me to summon you to dinner."

"Summon me?" Christine asked, repeating her words and not liking the sound of them at all. "Not invite me to dinner…not ask me to join him…but he _summoned_ me?" Perhaps it was due to the hours she had just spent crying or the fact that she was so frustrated with all the secrets and lies, but for whatever reason, Christine saw red. She had quite enough of this and she was tired of being told what to do by her uncle, by Lord Morant and now by Erik! She had always been taught that a woman was to obey her husband and to cater to his whims, but in turn wasn't a good husband also to respect his wife? A husband should treat his wife with kindness and show her dignity and if he was not willing to uphold his part, then neither was she! "Well, if _Master Erik_ wishes me to join him for dinner, he is welcome to come up here and fetch me himself."

"My lady?" Meg gasped, her eyes growing wide with shock.

"You heard me," Christine said, her chin coming up defiantly, though she found she could not keep her hands from shaking. "Return to the dining room and give him my regards, but I shall not be joining him this evening." With a dismissive turn, she walked over to the window and kept her back to Meg until the little maid quietly close the door.

The moment Christine heard it shut, she whirled around and ran forward, almost desperate to call out to her in hopes of stopping the scathing message from being delivered. Yet Christine would not allow herself, no…she had taken a stand and she needed to abide by it. Oh but at what costs? Would Erik be furious? Would he storm up to the room and drag her down the stairs by her hair as a punishment for disobeying him? Christine collapsed on the floor as her tears began anew…_what had she done?_

_._

_._

**OH DEAR! Christine took a stand and now she worries that she just put herself in hot water! How will Erik react to her sassy refusal to come to dinner?**

**I am sure he will take it all in stride, after all he is a very calm, cool and collected man...right? *rolls eyes***


	10. Chapter 10

**Guest Reviews:**

**Melstrife**: Erik should ALWAYS listen to Amir...but never does. YES YOU CAN, and I will even HAND you the frying pan! Sick him!

**Guessst: ** I just got Erik a prescription for some 'Chill Pills'...thanks for the suggestion. As for your other astute comment, see below...

.

**Many of you mentioned that you noticed a big similarity in the last chapter to Beauty and the Beast...well, while I can totally SEE that NOW...IT was purely by accident, I swear! When I began this story it had never crossed my mind to put in any such references to B&TB...they just kind of snuck in! Like the fact that Erik will not let her go into the East Wing (which I purposefully changed from the West Wing just so it would NOT be too B&TB - but the north and south wing just sounded strange) and that there is a ROSE in that wing! Did NOT see that reference at ALL till I posted the chapter! But please do not think that Erik is somehow enchanted by a sorceress or something - no...he screws up his own life just fine without the help of magic, ha ha. **

**Also the whole thing about her reading books in the library...well what else WAS there to do back then? No TV or X-Box to play with. ha ha. So reading it is. AND I can assure you that Erik does NOT storm up, beat on the door and tell Christine that if she does not eat with him she will STARVE! ha ha. Nope, that does NOT happen...as you will very soon find out.**

**All in all, I do apologize that it sounds similar in places...it was NOT my intention. Just like I can see that there are similarities to Jane Eyre (with her coming from a convent type school and the hidden screamer), but I promise that this is NOT a retelling of either story. Enjoy the similarities if you like them, ignore them if you don't.**

**Now...let's see how Erik deals with Christine's rebellion. Will it go well? *snort* yah, right!**

.

**Chapter 10**

.

.

Erik heard the dining room door open and he stood up, gripping the chair to his right in preparation to seat his wife when she entered. Yet it was not Christine who appeared, instead it was a very frightened looking Meg who walked slowly in. From her lowered head and wringing hands, Erik could tell that something was wrong.

"Where is my wife," he asked harshly, making the maid jump. "Has something happened…is she ill?"

"N-n-no, Master Erik," she stammered. "Lady Christine asked me to give you her regards…but…but she says she will not be joining you this evening."

"She refused to come down?" he asked, a bit shocked to say the least.

"She…she…said that if you wished it, she would join you," she replied, swallowing hard before she continued. "But only if…if you came up to fetch her yourself." Meg looked as if she were going to faint dead away after delivering Christine's words and she stood there quaking as she waited for Erik's reaction. She did not need to wait long.

Erik was livid! Christine refused to come down? His seemingly docile little wife was up in their room at this very moment, stubbornly rejecting his direct request to join him for dinner? A dinner where at he had fully intended on apologizing for his deplorable behavior that day? He knew he had upset her with his brute-like actions and harsh words but he had not imagined he had so harmed her fragile sensibilities that it had driven her to now avoid his presence. _Why not_, he thought to himself, _what was one more notch on the belt of his damnable temper and lack of self-control_.

Erik's hands gripped the back of the chair so tight that his knuckles turned white and with a roar of frustration he hurled the piece of furniture across the room with a loud crash.

"Oh, she wishes to be fetched? Then so be it!" he bellowed, storming across the room towards the door, as a skittish Meg quickly jumped out of the way. Erik was down the hall and taking the stairs two at a time when Madam Giry stepped in front of him at the top of the landing, her arms crossed and her face stern.

"Move!" Erik shouted, attempting to side step her but the housekeeper was persistent and continued to block his way. "Out of my way Antoinette or I swear I will…"

"Will what?" she cut him off. "Lose your temper…scream and shout like a mad man? Too late for that, I believe you are already there."

"She refuses to come down!" he bellowed in his defense.

"And who is to blame for that?" Madam Giry countered. "I do not know what transpired, but that poor girl is up in her room sobbing her eyes out. I could hear her all the way down the hall! So unless you intend on apologizing to her, I would strongly suggest you leave her be." She then gave a sigh as her tone turned softer. "Erik, if you do not calm yourself and regain control of your temper, you will end up doing something you will live to regret. I cannot stand by and let you destroy your life a second time…and hers along with it. Now I suggest you go simmer down, take a walk or go for a ride, but do_ not_ come back up these stairs until you can behave like the gentleman I know you are."

Erik stood there looking at her as if he were trying to make her burst into flames for her unwanted advice. Yet even through his anger, he knew she was right. So without another word he spun around and headed for the main hall, throwing open the front door with a loud bang as he exited.

Madam Giry shook her head sadly as she descended the stairs and approached Meg, who was peeking around the doorway to the dining hall nervously.

"Hopefully he will come back in a better mood," she told her daughter, putting her arm around her shoulder and giving her a warm squeeze. "I think it best you do not go back upstairs tonight, instead why don't you help me clear the table and put away the food that will obviously not be eaten? We will let the two of them work this out as husband and wife. Something tells me they need the practice." With a sad smile the two headed off to tend to their duties.

.

.

Several hours had passed and Christine had once more cried herself dry, huddled in the corner of the settee absently watching the fire die down to just embers. She was not sure if she was grateful or upset that Erik had not come up to fetch her like she had insisted. On one hand she had feared she might have gone too far, thus risking his wrath at her childish actions. While on the other hand, she had hoped her refusal would have pressed the issue and provoked some much needed truth out of him. However, since neither of those happened, she was left empty and alone, not sure what to expect when he did at last deem her important enough to attempt to speak with.

She had just resigned herself to getting undressed and ready for bed when she felt her stomach rumble in protest. Christine's pride and dignity may not have wished to go down to dinner, but her body had other ideas. Her decision to take a stand was not very well thought out, especially when she had not eaten anything since lunch. Perhaps she could sneak down and find something to eat before going to bed? Deciding that it was worth the effort to appease her appetite, she tiptoed to her door and listened for a moment, making sure no one was in the hallway outside. When she thought the coast was clear, Christine took a lit candle and snuck out and silently made her way down towards the kitchen, thankfully not running into anyone while doing so.

The kitchen had been cleaned and closed up for the night, but making good use of her small candle she was able to locate a few slices of cheese and some fruit. Wrapping it up in a piece of cloth she quickly headed back upstairs with her pilfered goods. She had just made it to the third floor when she heard the sound of footsteps and talking heading her way. Quickly she ducked into a linen closet in the hall and doused her candle so as not to be seen. It sounded like two women talking and as she listened she guessed it was the upstairs maids, Molly and Ann, if she remembered correctly. They were talking quietly but as they paused outside the closet she was able to hear what they were saying with ease.

"Mr. Bower said the master took his horse and rode off hours ago, as angry and upset as a bear," one told the other.

"What do you think has him so angry, Molly?" the other one asked.

"Well I am not one to spread gossip, Ann," Molly said in an excited whisper. "But Teresa told me that earlier she heard the master telling the new lady that she was forbidden to go into the east wing…and none to politely either, she said."

"Why ever not? There is nothing there of consequence except…" Ann's voice trailed off as if she just realized why. "He does not want her to know…does he?"

"Well, would you?" Molly asked. "That is quite a load to drop on a new bride just one day after the wedding."

What did Erik not want her to know? What was he keeping hidden in the east wing? Was this secret the source of the screams she heard at night…or perhaps where the flowers had come from? She tried to quell her curiosity and listened further.

"Teresa said that she heard him yelling at Rose, warning her that if something like this happened again he would see she was tossed out of Summercrest," Molly continued.

"No! He wouldn't dare, not Rose!" Ann gasped, apparently shocked by the idea.

"Probably not, but I would not want to put it to the test," the first maid said warily.

"I feel sorry for the poor woman, kept away from everyone like that," Anna continued. "I mean she isn't even allowed to take her meals with us, all because the master thinks he is being so clever and believes we know nothing about her or why she was brought to Summercrest."

"As if he could keep such a thing hidden from everyone," Molly agreed with the shake of her head. "Does he think we would judge him or speak badly about him for keeping his little secret? All men have a past they wish to hide and the master is no exception. I just hope the new mistress of the house does not get wind of it. Who knows how she will take the news."

"In the meantime, I would suggest we all mind our manners and stay on his good side until Master Erik calms down."

"Agreed," Ann said. "Now we best finish up and head home before our own husbands throw a fit like the master."

The two ladies quickly walked away, their voices growing faint as Christine was left straining to hear anything further. When it was silent once more she eased her way out of the closet and hurried to her room, glad of the low burning oil lamps on the wall to light her way.

Once back inside she spread out her makeshift dinner on the small table in front of the fireplace. After putting on a few more logs and stoking the coals to a burning flame, Christine sat down to eat. So the secrets of Summercrest were housed in the east wing and yet Erik had forbidden her to set foot in that part of the house. Christine ran over the names of all the servants she had met that morning and she distinctly remembered there was not a Rose in the bunch. There had been a Rachel and a Richard, but no Rose.

A sudden thought occurred to her, who said anything about Rose being a servant? Molly had said that Erik had threatened to toss this mystery woman out of Summercrest, he said nothing about firing her. Perhaps she was a guest, or a relative…or his mistress! Did the servants not say Erik was hiding a _little secret?_ He was apparently concealing a woman in this house, one he did not want her to know about for reasons that had yet to be determined. Christine wanted so desperately to learn the answers and yet what right did she have to pry into Erik's personal affairs? He was her husband, yes…but did he not deserve his privacy same as everyone? And what if this Rose woman _was_ his mistress, could she fault him for having found someone to love? After all, he had only met _her_ two days ago. Perhaps Rose was of a lower station than Erik and thus a marriage between them was out of the question. Did her uncle not allude to the fact that Erik's father was having doubts about his son's abilities to find a suitable wife and that was why she had been chosen? Was Rose the '_indiscretion_' that Amir had offhandedly mentioned that first night in the sitting room?

Christine found herself wondering if this Rose woman was pretty, did she have ashen blond hair or perhaps fiery red? Probably not the dull brown color of her own hair, Christine decided. It was also a pretty safe bet that his mistress was far more experienced in the ways of pleasuring a man as well. Could _that_ be why Erik had refused to sleep with her on their wedding night? Not to give her time to become used to her new role as a wife, but instead because he did not wish to be unfaithful to his lover?

Christine's eyes grew wide as another thought came to her already troubled mind. What if Erik was with her right now? Had her petulant attitude driven him directly into the arms of his consort for comfort? The maids had said he had ridden off but he could have since returned and was now ensconced in the east wing with _her_. She could just imagine the two of them lying together at that very moment, laughing and making sport over the ridiculous little wife that had been forced upon him? For some reason the idea made Christine slightly ill and she quickly pushed aside the remainder of cheese and apple, unable to eat another bite.

Christine stared into the fire for a long time, thinking how Erik having a mistress would affect her life. It could free her from her responsibilities of marriage, slake Erik's desires so that very little would be expected from her other than to appear with him at public functions or share the occasional dinner. Yet was that enough? Far too many things had been thrown at Christine in such a short amount of time. She wanted to be a good wife, to fulfill her duty to her husband, yet she wished to be happy doing it as well. Could she be content knowing that he was turning to another woman, requesting services from this Rose that should be hers alone to provide?

A sudden surge of possessiveness and pride washed over her, followed by fear and dread. Not only was a mistress an affront to her as a wife, it was a detriment to her position as the mother of his children…a duty she was ordered to fulfill by her uncle and Lord Morant. No, a mistress was an impediment to her future prospects and would not be tolerated! Christine was not some weak willed maiden, regardless of how she had been raised and she felt a streak of rebellion surge though her. No matter how it frightened her, she would not relinquish her position or responsibilities that easily. She was Erik's _wife_…perhaps it was time she started acting like it.

She knew she would drive herself insane thinking about this whole mixed up situation, so to salvage what was left of her sanity she decided it was time to turn in. Without Meg to help her out of her dress it took a bit longer than planned, but finally she was in her nightgown and crawling into bed, tired in body and weary in heart. Yet the last thought that crossed her troubled mind was the idea that somehow she needed to prove to Erik that she could give him the same thing he sought from Rose. She did not know how this would happen…but she had to try!

.

.

It was late into the night when Erik finally returned. He had gone for a hard ride over the grassy hills, allowing the thunderous gallop of his mount to work out much of his frustrations as the wind in his face cooled his temper. He soon realized he had overreacted to Christine's refusal but it was as if four years of pent up anger had suddenly come to a head. Four years of isolation and guilt, compounded by the scorn of his father and peers, had almost driven Erik over the edge…and then suddenly Christine had arrived. In no time at all she had become a faint but steady light he had hoped might lead him back to sanity, but by his own hand he had ruined that as well.

Erik ended up at one of the more seedy local taverns and after taking up residence at a corner table, he proceeded to order drink after drink in hopes of driving Christine's lovely form from his mind. As the night wore on, his thinking ability began to dull but the ache did not, proving to him that the evening's efforts had been in vain. He stayed until the money he had on him ran out and he was hardly able to stand. Stumbling out of the tavern he miraculously managed to mount his horse and remain astride long enough to make it back to Summercrest.

With a few slurred words of thanks, Erik handed the reins of his horse to the sleepy eyed stable hand. He then did his best to remain upright while he made his way towards the manor. Erik knew that while his temper had calmed, the longing and ache he felt for his petite little bride was still strong as ever. Part of him had wanted to lie down in the soft hay of the stables and sleep for a week, but the other side of him had an overpowering need to see Christine. He no longer cared that she had spurned him, that she had apparently been so angry and hurt by his earlier actions that she refused to come down to dinner. All he wanted was to look at her, to enjoy the sight of her silken hair as it cascaded down her back and watch her rosy pink lips as she spoke to him, be it gently or in irritation. But mostly Erik wanted to gaze upon her eyes, those two expressive orbs that lit up with delight when she talked about the books in the library or looked away in modesty when he paid her a compliment. She was his wife and he needed to see her…_now._

Mr. Bower must have been waiting up for him because the front door opened even before Erik could grasp the handle and he tripped his way into the foyer.

"Good evening, Master Erik," the butler greeted him, betraying no signs of shock at seeing his employer three sheets to the wind. "Would you like me to wake the cook and have her fix you something to eat…or some black coffee?"

"A glass of brandy would be nice," Erik said after a moment of thought.

"I would not recommend that, sir," Mr. Bower answered, looking at him skeptically. "Perhaps it would be best if you head up to bed now."

"Yes…" Erik said with a nod of agreement. "Perhaps that _would_ be best." Yet his mind was not on sleep…it was on Christine. "Has the lady of the house already retired?"

"Yes, in fact it appears she has not left your room all evening," he informed him.

"Good," Erik mumbled, looking at the stairs that led to the third floor. "That will be all, Bower…you may go to bed yourself."

"Very good, sir," he said with a bow, stopping briefly to turn down some of the oil lamps before he headed off to his room at last.

Erik once more staggered forward, aiming for the stairs and leaning heavily on the banister as he made his way up. Halfway there he began to feel a bit dizzy and decided it was best if he sat down on the second floor landing and rested a while before attempting the next flight. How on earth had Amir managed to do this the other night, he would never know. Once he thought he could see straight again, Erik hoisted himself up and forged on.

After what seemed like forever, Erik at last found himself standing outside his bedroom door, pausing for a moment as he worked up the courage to enter. He chided himself for his hesitation, she was just a girl, hardly over the threshold of womanhood…and yet how he feared her! For in her delicate hand, she held the power to destroy him.

With one last bolster of courage he opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it quietly behind him. It took a moment for his bleary eyes to adjust to the low light, the room illuminated only by the flickering fireplace. He could see that she was in bed, her back turned to him as she faced towards the windows. He could hear her light breathing over the crackling fire and he stood there drinking in the comforting sound. It had been such a long time since a woman had shared his bed, or any part of his life for that matter. He found it odd that her presence had the ability to calm him instantly. Erik desperately wanted to find a way to make this pleasant feeling last.

Taking a deep breath he let her scent wash over him. Even from halfway across the room he could smell the lavender and honeysuckle that seemed to surround her at all times. Her silken hair all but radiated the fragrance and he longed to bury his face in those delicious locks and simply become lost. Even now the urge was overwhelming and regardless of his promise to let her dictate the pace of their relationship, he knew he had to be closer to her…much closer.

Stepping away from the door he headed for the bed, weaving a bit as he removed his loosened cravat and dropped it on the floor. Next went his jacket followed by his vest, the annoying buttons giving him a moment or two of grief. But that was nothing compared to the trouble he had when he tried to remove his boots. He lifted his foot to grasp the heel to pull it off but suddenly he began to sway dangerously to one side. Erik stumbled several times before righting himself by grabbing hold of the bedpost, almost ending up unceremoniously on the floor. He did his best to keep his curses low and under his breath, however it was difficult to do when you were not only drunk but also falling. Once the room quit spinning, he eyed the settee by the fireplace and wisely decided that it might be a better location to remove his traitorous footwear before returning to the bed…and the sleeping Christine.

Heading over to the settee he collapsed onto the soft cushions, undoing a few buttons on his shirt before leaning down to remove his boots. When he did, Erik found that his head began to throb, causing him to abandon his efforts and lay back, shutting his eyes and resting his head in hopes that the pounding would subside.

.

Christine woke to the sounds of Erik stumbling and hushed swearing, his slurred speech betraying the fact that he was indeed drunk. She felt the bed shake as he grasped the bedpost, obviously for support in his unsteady and inebriated state. A wave of shame overtook her at the idea that her actions had caused him to turn to wine and possibly women in order to deal with her childish behavior. What kind of wife does that? _Obviously she did_, Christine chided herself. Well, it had to stop…now!

Slowly rolling over she watched as Erik made his way to the settee and flopped down, unaware that he had awakened her. Pulling back the covers she then quietly slipped towards her husband, his almost prone figure illuminated by the firelight, pulling her in as she steeled herself for her plan of seduction.

"May…may I be of assistance?" came a small voice to Erik's left, causing his eyes to open suddenly.

.

Erik did not know what to say, and even if he did know, he was not sure he could have articulated the needed words. Christine stood before him in a white floor length nightgown, this one sporting sleeves down to her wrists, hiding her offending bruises from his sight. Yet even fully covered he could still make out the shape of her luscious body and with the way the firelight was playing across her features Erik knew he would need to hold his desire in check. He also knew that as drunk as he was…it was going to be a monumental task indeed.

Christine could see she had startled him, not only with her presence but also by her offer. She could tell that he approved of her attire and she was glad she had picked one in delicate white, even if modesty had caused her to lean towards a more covering choice. When he looked up after hearing her speak he seemed to shift uncomfortably, sliding down a bit more on the lounge as he continued to stare at her.

Christine interpreted his lack of response as a _yes_ and came forward. Kneeling down in front of him, she pulled on the heel and toes of his boots, slipping each one off as he continued to stare at her. Once they were removed she did not rise, instead remaining at his feet in a subservient position, her large and expressive eye beseeching him for direction.

"Thank you," Erik said at last, knowing he needed to say something.

"Is there anything…else I can do for you?" she asked, letting her hand slide up his leg to rest just above his knee. She only prayed he would not notice how it trembled at the feel of his hard and rippling muscles beneath the fabric of his trousers.

Erik had acted admirably thus far, having had it in his inebriated mind to only seek a touch, a caress and perhaps if he were truly fortunate…a kiss. But now with her hand on his thigh and her tantalizing offer still hanging in the air between them, he knew he was done for.

"I think I made it abundantly clear the first time we met what you can do for me," he reminded her in a gruff voice, heavy with desire. Reaching out he took her small hand in his and gently, but urgently, pulled her to her feet and then forward until she was straddled between his legs and almost lying across his body. Her chest was now mere inches from his own and their eyes were locked on each others, however through it all Erik held onto one important thought. "But…it must be your choice, Christine…you have to want this."

"I…I do," she whispered, mere moments before his lips came up to meet hers in an almost frenzied kiss. It was much like the first one he gave her…yet there was a tenderness there that was lacking before. At first she just stayed still, allowing him to dictate the encounter, but soon she could feel her hands begin to stray from his shoulders where she had been supporting herself and make their way up his neck to the back of his head. Her fingers became lost in the thick mass of hair, enjoying the feeling as he released a low rumble from deep in his throat.

"Oh Christine," he said, pulling her down closer to him as he wrapped one hand around her waist and slid the other up her back, relishing the heat from her skin as it burned through the nightgown to permeate every inch it touched of his own body. Even with his reflexes severely hampered by the intoxicating liquor he had consumed, Erik spun her around, swiftly pinning her to the soft cushions of the settee. He continued the kiss as his fingers reached up to tug at the string holding her night dress closed at the neck, relishing the quiet sounds his wife was creating beneath him.

Christine knew she should be more aggressive in the kiss but she felt her face flush with shame as she realized that she did not know how. She knew if she did not participate more in this, he would think she was only a child playing at being a woman and soon lose interest, returning to the arms of the knowledgeable Rose. Yet when his fingers began fiddling with her neckline and then she felt them begin to explore the flesh beneath, she truly began to panic. Now what was she supposed to do…touch him back? The idea of him coming to know her in this intimate way not only frightened her, but caused tears of frustration to spring to her eyes, shaming her for her naivety. One fear compounded on the next until she was a jangle of nerves, causing all ideas of her grand seduction to fly out the window.

Erik had felt her stiffen in his grasp but was almost too afraid to pull back and see why. He was nearly overcome with desire, so much so that he found it shocking that he could even recall his own name, let alone the promise he had made to her that very morning. Yet he_ did_ remember and while his body screamed wicked thoughts at him, his mind honorably refused to listen. Pushing away from her, Erik stared intently into her eyes, praying he would see only a mirror of his own lustful desires…but alas, it was not to be. Confusion, uncertainty and most definitely fear was reflected there instead, making his heart sink to the bottom of his pounding chest.

"Christine…oh God," he moaned, hardly believing what he was about to say. "You are not ready…you do not want this."

"No…I…I do!" she argued, becoming even more desperate to convince him of her determination. "I can be a good wife to you, I…I just need some direction. Do not turn me away in favor of her, I beg of you. I know I can learn to please you…I am sure of it." Her voice was now almost a sob as she thought once more of the sultry and beautiful Rose slipping into Erik's arms with a triumphant smile.

At her words Erik became confused, cocking his still pounding head to one side as if trying to understand what she was talking about.

"Who is _she_?" he asked. "Who do you fear I would favor over you?"

"Your…your mistress," Christine confessed, her words coming out amidst a broken cry.

"_My what_?" he demanded. Erik pulled her into a sitting position next to him as he too attempted to sit up, none too comfortably.

"Y-y-your mistress," she said, swallowing hard as she forced the word over the lump her tears had caused in her throat. "I…I thought that was where you were all evening."

Erik was stunned…did Christine truly think that he had some woman on the side, ready and willing to satisfy his needs should she turn him away? The idea was so absurd he would have laughed out loud - had the situation not been quite so serious.

"I was at a tavern all evening and the only woman in sight was an elderly, rotund bar maid named Claudette. Of which I guarantee you, I have no feelings for what-so-ever." Erik assured her as he leaned in further, tipping her chin up with his finger so that she would look him in the eye. "Wherever did you get the ludicrous idea that I have a mistress?"

"I…I just…assumed…," she lied, deciding not to mention the fact that she had overheard the maids discussing this _Rose_ person during her raid of the kitchen. "I wouldn't blame you if you did, after all it was not as if you had sought to court me or even knew my name two days ago. It would be foolish of me to believe that you did not keep someone willing to…to…fulfill your manly needs or that you lived a life of celibacy."

"This mask…" Erik began, pointing to the leather façade that covered his face. "…which I am forced to wear, has quite efficiently curtailed any and all romantic liaisons I might have taken pleasures from in the past," Erik assured her, his voice deep and wounded, if still not a bit slurred due to the many drinks he had consumed. "You can rest assured that _you_ are the only woman currently obliged to endure my monstrous presence…and because of this nightmare that has been forced upon you, may God have mercy on your soul."

"Do not say such things!" Christine pleaded. "I do not feel as if my life is now a nightmare…and I do not think of you as a monster." She grew quiet as she watched him, seeing his eyes narrow at her words.

"Yet you feared me enough to refuse to dine with me this evening," he pointed out, the hurt showing in his voice. "Though I concede that you had every right to be, I was cruel to you and spoke harshly…for that…I apologize."

"No! You must not be so kind to me!" she cried, covering her face with her hands in shame. "I acted deplorable and deserve only your scorn, not your kindness." She stopped, catching her breath before she looked up at him and continued. "It was wrong of me to refuse to come down for dinner. I don't know what got into me to make me do such a wicked thing. I didn't mean to shame you or embarrass you in front of your staff the way I did and would completely understand if you chose to punish me for not acting like a proper wife."

"I have no intention of punishing you," Erik growled in anger, regretting his tone immediately when his head felt like it might fall off. Yet he hated to see the look of hurt and fear in her eyes even more. "While you are under my care, _no one_ will ever lay a hand on you in an unkind manner. That includes me!"

"But I was horrible to you and drove you out of your home and into the night," she pointed out placing her hand on his arm, not noticing how her mere touch caused him to shake slightly. "A man's home is his castle and if he cannot find peace there because he was forced to take a shrew for a wife, then what good is it to him?"

"You are not a shrew," Erik assured her, a slight smile coming to his lips at the idea.

"And you are not a monster," she countered, willing to concede his insistence if he would do the same for her. "I admit that things are still very confusing…and you are often a bit frightening, but I do not think you are an evil man. You have on several occasions been very kind to me, showing me more compassion than I had expected when I first arrived at Summercrest. I simply find that I do not know how to act, _or react_, in my new role as a wife."

"To be fair, I have never had to play the part of a husband either," Erik confessed, bringing his own shaky hand up until it came into contact with her delicate fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze. "I do not know the right words to use or the proper way to speak to you in order to not offend. I have become accustom to dealing with my servants, giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed without question. I cannot recall the last time someone has dared to tell me _no_." Well, that was not entirely true, for both Madam Giry and Rose often defied his orders, and Amir was a master at irritating him, but that was different. "Yet… I imagine a _good_ husband would offer his wife such concessions, giving her permission to speak her mind when she feels that he is being overbearing or harsh."

"I was taught that a_ good_ _wife_ should hold her tongue," Christine argued, but when she saw that Erik seemed to stiffen at this suggestion, she quickly continued. "But…I would not openly go against my husband's wishes if he desired me to act differently. From now on, I promise to voice my opinions mildly and only in private…not in front of the household staff," Christine added.

"Perhaps this was a conversation we should have had yesterday," Erik said with a dark chuckle. "It might have saved you some tears and me a splitting headache."

"It would appear that we have once again gotten off on the wrong foot," she nodded.

"Since we have no more feet to fall back on, what say we agree that from this moment forward we will try and do things the right way?" Erik offered, gripping her waist and turning her slightly until she now sat right next to him on the settee. At first she continued a bit stiff but at his gentle urging she soon leaned back against his side, allowing him to slip his arm tentatively around her waist as they sat there staring at the fire. Erik could have stayed this way forever, her head resting against his left shoulder as the fresh scent of her hair teased him mercilessly.

"How would you suggest we proceed then…_my husband_?" she asked quietly, closing her eyes as she concentrated on the exhilarating feelings his touch was creating as his thumb made small circles at her waist.

"I…I am not sure, _my wife_," he admitted, tightening his grip on her ever so slightly. "But I think that this right here is a nice start."

"Yes…it…it is very nice," she agreed, realizing that she had not felt so warm and protected in over nine years. Perhaps having a husband was not going to be such a horrible thing after all.

"Tomorrow, we will begin anew," he promised. "Tomorrow we will forget everything that has been said or done between us and we will start fresh." Erik hoped his drunken mind would remember this conversation come daylight. He leaned in slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "Will that be acceptable?"

"I believe so," she said with a yawn, her eyes beginning to close as she was lulled back to sleep by the heat of his body and the hypnotizing effects of the fire.

Erik sat there for a long time, not wanting to move for fear that this heavenly angel in his arms would vanish, proving that these last few minutes had all been an alcohol induced dream. Erik did not know exactly how he was going to manage it, but when dawn came, he was going to do all he could to prove himself a worthy husband to her. He would not take her for granted and not just assume he knew what she was thinking, he would spend the time to find out. And maybe…just maybe…he could one day confide in her his deepest secrets and not be betrayed by the cruelties of the world once again.

As the fire began to die down he noticed her shiver in her sleep and he knew it was time to retire to the warmth of the bed. Slipping his right hand under her legs he gently eased her into his arms and rose, swaying slightly on unsteady legs as he headed for the bed. It took some maneuvering to get her positioned in bed, him almost falling once on top of her, but he managed it without waking her and pulled the covers up to her chin as she cuddled into the soft pillow. The moonlight shown in on her face and Erik indeed did feel as if a heavenly creature had come down to grace his presence. Without even thinking he leaned in and lightly kissed her on the forehead, brushing back her hair as he did.

"I promise I will learn to be a good husband for you, Christine," he whispered. "I swear it."

With that he stumbled to the other side of the bed and crawled in, still fully clothed and fell instantly asleep beside his wife.

.

.

**Awwww, a fresh new beginning. Do you think THIS TIME it will work? Lets hope so, because like ERik said, they are running out of feet!**

**How do you think their talk went?**

**Did Erik redeem himself?**

**Did Christine's seduction go well?**

**Please tell me what you think. **

**WARNING: I will be without reliable internet service until July 16th, so I MIGHT not be able to respond to your reviews for a while, however I will sure try. But PLEASE don't stop sending them...I LOVE EVERY ONE! And no worries on posting, my Beta, the lovely PoE99, will be sending up the chapters for me if I can't log on. So please keep reading and reviewing!  
**


	11. Chapter 11

.

MELSTRIFE: M. First has her cane so you can keep your frying pan. And more twists conning soon.

FRENZYVAMMI: Keeping you guessing am I...good. And yes the did have a nice talk.

GUESSST: Erik is a nice drunk...let's see how he is with a hangover.

JOANNE: thanks for saying you like it...I WILL keep posting and you will find out who Rose is ...soonish

* * *

Now...on with that new start!

.

Chapter 11

.

.

Erik's first thought when he woke was that he felt like hell. His head was throbbing in time with each beat of his heart, his stomach was nauseous and when he was foolish enough to open his eyes, the room would not stop spinning. _What the hell had happened to him?_

After several more minutes lying perfectly still, he began to recall a few things, the foremost being that he had apparently drank way too much. Flashes of his time spent at the tavern last night gave him ample explanation for his now pitiful state. He wondered how on earth he had made it back to Summercrest and into his own bed, for he could remember none of his journey getting there. He had just resigned himself to remaining where he was all day and forgetting the world existed, when he felt the bed move slightly, alerting him to the fact that he was not alone.

Once more his eyes opened and with the utmost care he turned his head to look at the pillow next to him…_Christine_! She was lying beside him; her face was turned towards the windows but she had apparently shifted in her sleep, the movement alerting him to her presence. Ever so carefully, Erik sat up and turned on his side so that he could stare at her, propping his pounding head up as he leaned on his elbow. _What had happened last night…had they…? _No, Erik thought, he was still fully dressed and she appeared to still be in a nightgown, so things must not have gone too far. Yet why did he seem to remember her lips on his? The taste and the scent of her lingered through the haze of his mind, indicating that _something_ had taken place the previous night…_but what_?

Erik fought to remember, for he did not wish for her to awaken without knowing if he needed to beg her forgiveness or simply pick up where they left off. He truly hoped his inebriated state had not caused him to become a scoundrel and attack her last night. However the memories that kept floating back did not seem to indicate there was any resistance on her part…and yet. Erik could now recall her eyes…those beautiful eyes of hers had been full of uncertainty and fear. Instant regret gripped his heart at the thought that he might have been the cause. Please don't let it be that he lost control again…not with Christine! _He had to remember!_

Once more Christine stirred; this time rolling over facing him as she snuggled down further under the covers and buried her head in the pillow. Erik held his breath, terrified that she would wake up and scream in fear at the sight of him. Yet when he saw that her lips were turned up into a slight smile and her face seemed at peace, he began to relax. Perhaps what took place last night, whatever that might be, had truly been consensual. He shut his eyes and focused all his mental capacity on trying to remember…_anything_!

Then like the floodgates had been opened, memories came back in wave after wave. Relief washed over him as he realized he had not ravished her like he had feared…in fact…_she had been the one trying to seduce him_! Could that be correct? Or had it all just been a very vivid and pleasant dream? No…he was pretty sure it happened just as he was remembering it. He had come home from the tavern, eager just to see her and then she had been the one to initiate things by touching him. How on earth he had _not_ given in fully to her pleading eyes he had no idea. For even now, in as much pain as he was, he would have had a difficult time rejecting her charms. Yet somehow he realized she was acting in desperation, having somehow gotten it in her head that he had a mistress? _A mistress!_ How absurd was _that_ idea? Still, that had been what motivated her to offer herself to him, not the desire or passion he so wanted and that was why he had stopped her. If she was not completely willing…he would not take her.

She was so beautiful to look at, her long, dark lashes resting against the alabaster skin that he longed to touch. Her lips were parted slightly as she breathed in and out, hardly a sound escaping as she continued to sleep. Such an angel, he thought, such a delicate ethereal being and he could not imagine the twist of fate that had brought her to him. It was then that the promise he made to her last night came back as well. He would learn to be a good husband for her…he had sworn he would find a way. _Yet how?_ Even if he could not tell her all his secrets… _yet_…he could certainly do everything in his power to show her kindness and understanding until that day arrived. He still did not know exactly how to go about it but he was willing to try. If only his mind was clear enough to think properly, but right now all he could do was simply stare at her in wonder.

.

Christine drifted from sleep, consciousness seeping in as she knew it was time to greet a new day. However, she was instantly aware that she was not alone. With her eyes still shut she could hear the steady breathing of someone else sharing the bed with her and if her memory served her correctly…_it was Erik_. Ever so slowly she lifted her lids and found herself looking up into the eyes of her husband. He was resting on his side, his head propped up by his left hand and he was staring at her with a slight smile.

Erik looked very tired, his eyes still red and slightly bloodshot from his evening of indulgence. Christine wanted to speak, but her voice was stolen from her by their intimate proximity to each other, for she could feel the warmth of his body as it radiated through the few covers that lay between them. With a wave of shame, Christine remembered her actions the previous night and felt her face blush at the thought of what she had almost done. Seducing her husband had been a foolish idea, especially for one who had no idea how to go about such things. Yet he had pulled back, he had stopped her, once more insisting that she was not ready…which she admittedly had not been. Now, looking at him, she wondered exactly what he had meant when he told her they would start over, that today would be the beginning of a new relationship between them.

Erik did his utmost to pull it together, attempting to hide the fact that he was not at his best, but he knew he needed to say something. He could not simply continue to stare at her like he was, he was sure it was quite nerve-wracking.

"Good morning," he said, but the moment his words left his lips he flinched, shutting his eyes as if even the slightest sound caused him pain.

"Are you all right?" Christine asked, keeping her own voice low in imitation of his.

"It appears not. I think even death would be preferable to this headache I have," he confessed, laying back against his own pillow as he brought his right hand up to massage his forehead. Erik was no stranger to the effects of too much alcohol, having overindulged more times than he cared to admit over the last four years. However it had never changed things, never truly helped and seemed to only make things worse come morning. This was the first time in over six months that his anger and depression had driven him to seek solace in the form of intoxicating spirits and he was now sorely regretting it.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, feeling guilty that she had been the one to drive him to such things last night with her stubborn attitude.

"Just lay still and keep your voice low," he instructed, a queasy feeling making its presence known at the slightest movement of the bed.

"Once at the abbey, one of the new girls snuck into the chapel on a dare and drank half a bottle of the sacramental wine. She was terribly sick the next morning," Christine told him in a quiet voice.

"I can imagine," Erik said with a slightly amused grin on his face, but he continued to lay there with his eyes shut.

"Sister Margret was furious, but she gave her some ginger tea to drink and it seemed to help," Christine continued. "Would you like me to ask the kitchen staff to make you some?" She moved to push the covers back in order to do so should he accept her offer, but his left hand shot out and took hold of her wrist.

"No…just stay where you are," he said, but his words did not sound like an order, as much as a plea. "I would rather you remain here for a bit longer." He had opened his eyes and was now looking at her hopefully.

"If you wish, I will stay," she nodded, lying back down on her side as she curled her hands beneath the pillow under her head. "I wish there was something I could do to help."

"It helps simply to listen to you, your voice is very soothing and if you talk to me it will help take my mind off of the pain," he told her, once more letting his head rest on the pillow and shutting his eyes. "Tell me more about yourself…what do you enjoy doing in your spare time?"

"I…I like to read," she began, doing her best to think of things that made her happy. When she paused, unable to think of much else, Erik opened one eye and rolled over so that he could look at her questioningly.

"That is all?" he asked. "You do not have any other interests?"

"There was not much free time at the abbey," she confessed. "We all had our studies, our duties to perform and were required to help out with daily chores. When we were finished with those, we were expected to spend time in prayer and singing in the choir. I liked singing very much, but it was forbidden for us to do so on our own, or to sing anything but hymns." A look of shame came to her face as she stared into both of his bloodshot eyes. "However, I did not always obey and was caught several times humming old folk songs while gardening or helping out in the laundry room."

"So you have always been the rebellious type, have you?" he asked, his smile growing larger as he watched her cheeks turn red.

"I did _try_ to be an obedient girl," she assured him. "But sometimes I could not help myself. When I felt the need to sing, or dance or just run free…I couldn't hold it in."

Erik found he liked that image very much. Christine as a child, that wild gleam in her eye and the stubborn tilt of her chin as she stood in defiance of the sisters, her little spirit yearning to break free.

"I would not ask you to hold in your desires here at Summercrest," Erik assured her. "If you feel the need to sing or dance, I insist that you do so… just perhaps not in front of the staff."

"Yes, I think I have already gained a rather scandalous reputation with them," she muttered.

"If anything, they are probably in awe of you," Erik laughed, once more cringing as the reverberations made the pounding in his head worsen. "Oh God, I swear I will never drink again!"

This time Christine could not help but giggle over his self-inflicted misery, feeling very badly about it a moment later when he shifted his weight and moaned even more.

"You are a cruel wife to laugh at me when I am obviously on death's door," he muttered, both his hands now coming up to hold his head still so it would not fall off.

"Perhaps, but you are a foolish husband for allowing yourself to be the instrument of your own pain," she pointed out.

"When I encouraged you to speak your mind with me, I did not know it was full of wickedness," he chuckled, enjoying the fire in her voice as she chastised him. He needed that. He needed someone to tell him the truth and not to cater to his every thought and whim. He _needed _Christine.

It was in those moments of silence that there came a sound, a shuffling and a thump outside their door. Christine looked up, wondering if it was Meg or her mystery visitor who had left the flowers the morning before. She was just about to rise and see when Erik's hand came to rest on her shoulder, holding her in place.

"I will see who it is," he told her, his tone a bit uneasy. "The fire has not been relit and it is far too chilly for you to get out of bed." He knew his excuse was thin, for the sun had more than warmed the room sufficiently for moving about comfortably but he did not want her rising just yet.

Slowly he pushed back the covers, grateful for the fact he had fallen asleep fully dressed. After using the bedpost as a brace to steady his feet, he did his best to focus on the door and walked towards it. Reaching the handle with not too much deviation, Erik opened it and looked out into the hall. Though they had both heard the noise, there was now no one there. However, the handful of daisies lying on the hallway floor told him that someone _had _just been there. He leaned down and picked them up with a frown, both from the sight of the flowers as well as the nausea that washed over him from such an exertion. _Oh why had he drunk so much?_

"Is anyone there?" Christine asked, sitting up in bed.

"No," Erik told her, crushing the small flowers in his hand and sticking them in his pocket. He was grateful that the large door blocked him from her view so that she did not see him abscond with the gift that had obviously been meant for her once again. It was better that she not see them, for they would only prompt her to ask more questions…ones he was not at liberty to answer. Apparently another talk with Rose was in order this morning. "It must have been a passing servant," he continued as he shut the door and returned to the room, looking at her as he did. "Meg should be in soon to help you dress and I will order up a bath for myself. Would you care for one as well?"

"No, thank you," she said, pulling her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees. "Unless I am required to dress up…I do not know what you have planned for the day."

Even in Erik's hung-over state he couldn't help but think if he had his way Christine would remain in her night clothes all day… every day. She looked so adorably innocent huddled there in his bed and he had to consciously restrain himself from going to her at that very moment.

"There is nothing of consequence to be done, other than the usual duties at Summercrest," he assured her. "You may dress in whatever you feel is most comfortable." He then made his way to his closet and removed the needed garments and headed for the bathing-room. "I will see you at breakfast," he told her just before he disappeared into the room and shut the door behind him.

Christine knew that there was a cord to call for the servants in there, as well as a separate entrance for them to bring up the hot water. So she was likely not going to see him again until she went down to the dining hall, just as he inferred. Rising from the bed she managed to choose her garments for the day just as Meg made her expected entrance, quickly offering her assistance with the confining corset and lacings up the back of her dress. Christine took her time getting ready for the day, but soon her hair was fixed and her cheeks still a rosy pink from thinking about what had happened between them last night. With one last look in the mirror and words of gratitude to Meg, Christine headed for the dining hall.

.

Erik was already there, dressed once more as the impeccable master of Summercrest, waiting to pull out her chair for her as they sat together in silence. Normally Christine would have been uncomfortable or even hurt by his lack of conversation, especially after his pledge to change his sullen ways, but she could see that was not the reason for the lack of conversation today. Erik was still feeling the effects of the hangover and just sitting there, pushing the food around his plate, was proof enough that he was making an effort.

While she ate, Christine stole a few side glances at him, feeling the heat rise to her face when she thought of what she had attempted last night. Should she apologize for her behavior? It was hardly lady like, and perhaps he now thought of her as a foolish and brazen girl for the attempt. Yet…he had been nothing but kind to her today. What if Erik did not even remember any of it? What if he had been so inebriated that the whole evening was a blur and it could all now be forgotten and buried in his alcohol fogged mind? If so, it would be unwise to bring up the incident now and risk the chance that he _would_ remember. And if by some horrible chance he did have full recollection of her shameful behavior, he was truly showing himself to be a gentleman by not speaking of it. Well, whatever the reason, Christine appreciated the gesture and continued to eat her breakfast without speaking…_of anything._

Once they were done she inquired about the duties of Summercrest he had mentioned earlier, eager to know what activities her role as mistress of the house might entail. Erik listed off a few things, letters to answer, servants to direct, books to keep and certain holdings to oversee. Unfortunately nothing that seemed to require_ her_ attention. She must have appeared downhearted, for Erik took note and asked her about it.

"Is something bothering you?" he inquired.

"I just thought that there might be something for _me_ to do…some duty to perform, some job that might need my attention." She looked up at him hopefully. "I would like to feel needed around here…useful."

_Oh she was needed_, Erik heard his mind say, _she was needed very badly. _Unfortunately he could not tell her this after all the assurances he had given her last night. So instead he attempted to offer her some sort of diversion.

"Today your duty will be to allow me to escort you around the grounds," Erik offered. "Indeed there is much to be done at Summercrest but until you are familiar with the surrounding gardens and outbuildings, finding your way would be difficult. I would hate to have you getting lost should I send you on an errand or you need to direct one of the servants who works outside the mansion. Would you be willing to accompany me outdoors?"

"I would like that very much," she smiled, hoping this tour would not end up like the last one, with them at odds. Yet Erik was doing a fine job at holding his temper and she could see that he was indeed trying to act cordial.

"Yet first…" Erik said, standing up with great difficulty. "First I think it would be best if I attended to some matters in my study, just to give my head a little more time to clear before we go out walking." He looked down at her apologetically, his pain still showing in his eyes.

"Of course," Christine agreed, laying her napkin on the table as she rose herself. "If you would like, I will ask the kitchen maids to make that ginger tea I told you about. I think it could really help with your head and stomach."

Erik was not used to people being nice to him, so it took him moment to come to the realization that she was indeed just trying to be kind. "I would like that very much, thank you, Christine."

"You go and I will bring it in when it is made." She then walked around the table as they made their way out the door. She liked the way he kept his eyes trained on her as if she were the most interesting thing in the room. It made her feel…_needed_.

Once Erik had disappeared down the hallway, Christine made her way towards the kitchen, finding Bridget and the other girl who helped there, Cathy, as well as Gilda, the cook. Madam Giry was present as well but looked as if she were simply waiting for something as opposed to helping out. As the housekeeper, Christine assumed that she did more supervising than the actual preparing of meals.

"May we help you with something, Lady Christine?" Madam Giry asked kindly as she saw the girl enter.

"Yes, I was hoping you might have some ginger on hand in order to brew up a tea?" she inquired, still unused to being addressed so.

"Are you feeling ill, my lady?" Bridget asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached her, offering her a chair to sit in.

"No, I am fine," Christine assured her, touched by the girl's concern. "I was hoping to get some tea to help ease the master's headache and uneasy stomach."

"Ahhhh, I see," Madam Giry said, with a knowing nod of her head. "I take it that he found himself down at the tavern once again last night. I had hoped he had left off from that, but I suppose men will be men."

"Please do not think ill of him," Christine immediately begged, not wanting the staff to find fault with him when it was her doing. "I…I am afraid I pushed him into it last night with my defiance. I am to blame for his current condition."

"Now dear," Madam Giry said, taking Christine by the hand and maneuvering her to sit down on a small bench in the corner of the room with her. "Master Erik is a grown man and he is more than capable of making his own decisions, be they right or wrong. He was being overbearing last night and you had every right to choose not to come down and be forced to endure his company, and I told him as much. It was my idea that he leave the house and go for a ride to cool down…but it was _his_ choice to head straight to the tavern and drink himself into oblivion. I will not have you blaming yourself for his wickedness."

"Erik is not truly wicked!" Christine gasped, instantly ready to defend him.

"I never meant he was," Madam Giry smiled, patting Christine's hand gently. "But he _is_ a man. And they all have a touch of wickedness in them, which tends to show itself when they are not in full control of their emotions. The master is no different, he just hides it better than most." She gave a slight laugh at the wide eyed look Christine was giving her. "Even my beloved Gerome, God rest him, was known to take to the bottle from time to time. Yet he was a good man at heart and I simply had to remind myself of that when he became sullen or brooding. The master is the same way, moody at times, but true blue underneath it all. Just remember that and in time you will see his goodness shining through."

"I have seen…glimpses," Christine said, lowering her eyes as she blushed slightly, recalling the way he had held her gently as she fell asleep in his arms on the settee.

"Give him time, as well as your loyalty, and you will see much, much more," Madam Giry assured her, lifting Christine's chin in her weathered hand. "He has so much potential for good, it simply needs to be brought out by the right woman."

Christine prayed that the elderly woman was right, that she had indeed not married a heartless man like she had first believed. Erik _was_ volatile and perplexing but not once had he ever truly frightened her…no, not once had he caused her to fear for her safety. Instead she had seen patches of tenderness, compassion and a longing for more than just a friendship in his sad, troubled eyes. And the more he showed her that side, the more she wanted to give him those things.

"Here is the ginger tea you asked for, my lady," Cathy said, breaking Christine from her thoughts as she handed her the cup, wrapped in a thick cloth to keep it warm and protect her hands.

"Thank you, I am sure this will help." Christine accepted the steaming cup of tea and then looked at Madam Giry. "Thank you also for your advice. I will keep it in mind."

"I am sure you will, my dear," the house keeper said with a knowing smile. "Now, off with you before the tea gets cold."

Christine thanked the kitchen girls once more and headed out the door in search of Erik's study. She walked down one hall and got all the way to the end before she realized this was not the way at all. Turning back she ended up standing in the entryway, looking left and then right…she had been certain it was that direction, but now she was unsure. She tried the next hallway but that looked even less likely and she once more Christine ended up right back where she started. She really should have paid better attention yesterday when he was giving her the tour. She was about to give up and return to the kitchen when she saw Madam Giry heading up the stairs to the third floor. Not wanting to appear unladylike and yell for her attention, Christine quickly followed the woman hoping to catch up with her to ask for directions.

She had just made it to the third floor landing when she saw that the older woman was walking towards the east wing, carrying what looked to be a breakfast tray. She wondered who it might be for…a sick servant perhaps? Or maybe…the mysterious Rose! Christine had taken Erik at his word when he told her that he had no mistress, yet that did not solve the issue of who the woman was to him. If she was not his lover, then who was she? Christine knew she was playing with fire as she quietly followed the house keeper into the forbidden east wing, but she was desperate for answers.

Without looking back, Madam Giry stopped at one of the first doors, slipping a key out of her pocket and inserting it in the door as it swung open and gave her admittance. Christine hid in one of the alcoves until she had gone inside and shut the door behind her. Yet when she attempted to open it herself and follow, she found the door was locked. She jiggled on the handle several times, but it would not budge. Christine was about to knock, hoping Madam Giry might answer, when she heard her name being called from down the hall.

"Lady Christine?" Meg asked, her voice a mixture of confusion and fear. "I do not think the master wishes for you to be down there," she warned.

Christine looked from her lady's maid to the unyielding door and then back again, wishing with all her might that she could see through walls.

"I was just trying to speak to your mother but she disappeared through this door," Christine explained, leaving out the part about her burning curiosity. "Where does this lead to?"

Meg had begun walking towards her with a stride born of purpose. Taking her by the hand she then tugged at her, urging her to leave and return to safer ground.

"Please do not worry yourself about it. Mother has lots of responsibilities and many of the rooms need cleaned or her special attention. I am sure she is just taking care of her household duties," Meg explained.

"But she was carrying a tray of food," Christine continued, undeterred by the young maids explanations. "Is someone ill? Why would she need to take them breakfast? Can they not come down and eat themselves? Who is it that she…"

"Please, my lady!" Meg's voice was now filled with panic as she turned, placing her hands on Christine's shoulders. "Do not ask me these questions. I swear that I do not know, but I am sure the master would be most displeased with me if he heard you inquiring about such things."

To Christine, Meg seemed like she might burst into tears at any moment and not wanting to further alarm the poor girl, she gave a sigh and nodded her head in understanding.

"I am sorry, Meg," Christine told her. "I do not want you to get into trouble or become distressed. I had simply become lost looking for Erik's study and thought perhaps your mother could give me directions."

"I can show you where it is," Meg assured her, a relieved smile springing to her face. "It is this way, not far at all." Now that she found an assignment that was not bound to get her fired, she was only too eager to perform it and get Christine away from the dreaded east wing.

Christine allowed herself to be directed down the correct hallway and was left standing in front of a solid cherry wood door. Meg had excused herself almost immediately and headed off to finish her duties for the day, promising to come up later to help her dress for dinner, leaving Christine to enter alone.

Knocking quietly Christine peeked inside, spying Erik sitting at his desk but his head was tipped back and his eyes were closed, obviously ignoring the papers spread out in front of him. She approached on tiptoe, trying not to disturb him, but his heightened senses detected her presence. He carefully sat up and stared at her, causing her to halt in place.

"I brought the tea," she whispered, holding it out to him.

Erik rose slowly and walked over to her, taking the cup from her hand with a nod of thanks. He then walked over to the comfortable settee and sat down as he began to sip the liquid, a slight frown of displeasure crossing his lips.

"I am sorry if it is no longer hot, I kind of lost my way and could not find your study…Meg had to direct me," she confessed, not mentioning her other deviation as she let her curiosity get the better of her. "If it is too unpleasant I can take it back and have it warmed up. I know the taste is not very appealing, but it will help," she assured him, fighting back a smile as the image of him as a child making the same face as he took his medicine when sick crossed her mind.

"No, it is fine, thank you," he got out between several more displeasing sips. "I will take anything that will offer a measure of relief at this point." He swore he would remember this dreadful feeling the next time he decided that liquor was the answer to his problems. When he was finished with the cup he set it down on the nearby table and leaned back against the cushions. "Give me just a few minutes and we will take that tour of the grounds," he promised.

"Perhaps a small nap would do you good, to help the ginger tea take affect?" she suggested, not wanting him to overdo it too soon. "I am in no hurry, please do not do anything that would cause you discomfort on my account. I could lose myself in a book for a few hours and allow you to rest."

Erik opened his mouth to protest but the fact that she still seemed a bit blurry to his vision made him have second thoughts. If he were to take her outside and then trip on a stone or fall over his own drunken feet…well that would not do at all! Perhaps she was correct; a nap might be just the thing.

"I do not wish to delay our outing, however I see the wisdom of your words and might just take you up on your offer," he smiled, grabbing one of the throw pillows and propping it against the armrest as he stretched his long frame over the settee and shut his eyes. "I will come and find you within the hour…two at the most," he assured her, his voice already sounding quite sleepy.

"Take your time…I am not going anywhere," she smiled turning and heading out the door. She had just begun to shut it when she heard his final question.

"Promise?" he asked, barely awake enough to speak.

"Yes, Erik…I promise," she whispered, not even sure he heard her and with that she closed the door.

.

.

Oh so close! Darn you Meg!

Maybe next time

Glad Erik remembered his words from last night!

Please let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

.

I have been enjoying your reviews very much...keep them conning!

I will be back answering them as soon as I can. Now more Erik and Christine fun...And look, Amir is back!

.

Chapter 12

.

Christine was now left alone in the hallway, wondering what she would do with herself for the next few hours while Erik rested. Knowing her choices were limited, since she had yet to be assigned any real duties or felt comfortable enough to roam the house, she decided to search out a new book to read. Knowing she still had the first one she had borrowed in her room, which she had already finished, she decided to fetch it first and return it at the same time.

Christine had just emerged from her room, her formerly read treasure in hand, when she heard the distinct sound of giggling. It was the same childish laughter she had heard from her room yesterday morning, once again leading her to believe that there was indeed a child somewhere in the house. Following the sound she once more found herself being led to the east wing, the one place she had been forbidden to go. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized that every curiosity of the house seemed to always lead her here.

The laughter came again, sounding closer than before, but before she could gain the courage to make her way down the long and ominous hallway, a hand on her shoulder made her jump. Dropping her book Christine's hands flew to cover her mouth as she let out a yelp of fright and spun around. Thankfully it was the kind but warning eyes of Madam Giry that stared back at her and not the scolding stare of Erik for discovering that she was now disobeying his direct order.

"Are you lost, my dear?" the older woman asked, her tone revealing that she knew Christine was anything but lost.

"I…I thought I heard laughter," she stammered, doing her best to calm her frantic heart. She turned her head and stared down the hallway once more, a nagging urge to break away and dash forward to discover who it was she had heard.

"You very well might have, the maids do tend to twitter on while they work," Antoinette Giry continued as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Yet that still does not explain what you are doing here in the east wing…a place I am certain Master Erik has asked you not to venture."

_Asked_ would not be the word Christine would use to describe Erik's direct order, yet she felt it was not right to speak of such personal affairs in front of the housekeeper. She had already shamed him enough with her disgraceful actions last night, no need to add more fuel to the fire.

"I know…and yes, he did, but…I heard the laughter of a child…and I just wanted to…" she let her voice drift off as she heard the ill-conceived argument with her own ears. Laughter or no, she was indeed disobeying her husband's request and she lowered her head in shame over it. "I am sorry, Madam Giry…It was very wrong of me to do so."

"No harm done, my dear," the kind lady said, reaching down to retrieve the book Christine had dropped, handing it back to her with a warm smile. "And I see no need to inform the master if you promise not to visit here again." She then placed her arm around her young mistress' shoulders and steered her back towards the main section of the house.

"Madam Giry, may I ask…" Christine said suddenly, hoping to have at least one of her questions answered. "What you were doing here earlier? I saw you come up the stairs and then enter that room over there." She pointed to the mysterious door that had been barred to her.

The older lady stopped walking and looked at Christine with narrowed eyes.

"You did, did you?" she asked skeptically.

"I was not spying, I promise. I was merely lost and followed you up in order to ask you where Erik's study was located. You went in but when I tried to follow to ask directions the door was locked," Christine continued on, doing her best to justify her actions. "You were carrying a tray of food, is one of the staff sick? Is there anything I can do to help?"

"None of the staff is ill," she assured her, once more directing Christine away from the east wing. "Would you begrudge an old woman a little privacy to herself? Am I not entitled to have a room where I can sit and take a moment without the rest of the house pestering me for my time and services?"

"Yes, of course you are!" Christine gasped, afraid that she had now offended one of the few people she felt comfortable with in this strange new home of hers. "I did not mean anything by it, I swear, I was just…"

"Curious?" Antoinette finished for her, her kindhearted smile returning as she watched the girl's face redden in embarrassment. "It is natural for you to be so when you know so little about how the house is run and what goes on here, my lady. But please do not go poking around where you have been instructed not to, or you will find yourself in hot water with the master. Many areas of the house are not safe to wander alone and it would be wise if you listened to his warnings…for your own good." She gave Christine a warm hug in hopes of easing her fears. "Now I assume you were heading to the library to return that book, let me show you the way. We would not want to have you getting _lost_ a second time today, now would we?"

"No…no we wouldn't," she muttered, glancing back once more at the mysterious hallway that lead to the east wing. Regardless of what the housekeeper said, Christine knew there was more going on there than anyone was telling her. She just knew it!

Soon they had arrived at the library and even though her mind was still flooded with thoughts of the unknown laughter she had heard, Christine found herself easily distracted by the sight of all the volumes laid out at her fingertips.

"Enjoy yourself, my lady," Madam Giry said as she closed the door, leaving Christine alone to explore.

It did not take long before Christine had picked out several more books and had positioned herself in a large high backed chair in front of the fireplace, already devouring each page like a starving woman. A few hours had passed when her reading was momentarily interrupted by the appearance of Bridget, as the thoughtful kitchen maid brought in a small plate of lunch. Once again engrossed in her book, the hours seemed to fly by until she was startled from her imaginative journey by the sound of the library door opening once again.

"Christine?" Erik called, his eyes searching the room as he entered.

"Here I am," she answered, leaning forward in the chair so that he could see her head sticking out from behind the high back. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, rising from where she sat as he approached.

"I am, thanks in part to your tea," he told her, stopping a few feet away. He placed his hand to his chest and bowed ever so slightly. "I must apologize, both for my tardiness as well as for the fact that you had to see me in such a deplorable condition. I assure you, my lady, it will _not_ happen again."

"You have no need to apologize, for I am quite convinced that you are not solely to blame. I feel I must take an equal amount of responsibility for the evening's…downfall," she said, twisting her hands in front of her.

"Then shall we put it all behind us and not speak of it again?" he offered, smiling slightly as she nodded her agreement. "I know it is rather late in the afternoon, but if you still wish it, I would again like to offer you that tour I spoke of earlier," he said, gesturing towards the door invitingly.

"Yes, please," she smiled heading for the door as he fell into step beside her. She noted that he did not make any move to touch her and she found it a bit disappointing.

They journeyed to the back of the house where two magnificent French doors led to a grand stone patio overlooking the grounds. It was amazing to Christine that such a place existed, for the grandeur of it all was spectacular. The stone railing that surrounded the area was just tall enough to sit on comfortably but not so big that it obstructed the view of the palatial lawn, rose gardens, flowing orchards and the crystal blue lake that was laid about before them. She now understood why Erik employed a groundskeeper and several assistants. They must work around the clock to keep the place in such splendid condition.

"You must have wonderful parties here in the summer," she mused, allowing her eyes to scan from one end to the other.

"When I was young, we did," he said, his mind drifting back to the days of his misspent youth. "We have not had a party at Summercrest for over a decade…unless you count our wedding reception."

"It seems such a shame to waste a beautiful area like this," she told him, with a sad shake of her head. "It practically screams to be put to use."

"I am not interested in entertaining," he replied in a bit of a gruff voice, still looking straight ahead.

"I see," Christine muttered, not pressing him further on the subject. A high stone wall to the left caught her eye and she pointed towards it. "What is that?"

"Just an abandoned garden," Erik told her, shifting his feet nervously. "Since it is not visible to guests I have told the groundskeeper that he need not bother with it, he has plenty to keep him occupied. It is of no consequence. Shall we continue?" he offered quickly, eager to change the subject and scenery.

They next headed towards many of the outbuildings, passing the store houses, the gardener's shed, the carriage house until they at last came to the stables. There Christine was introduced to Erik's horse, a magnificent black Arabian stallion.

"He is amazing," Christine gasped, cautiously reaching out her hand as he nuzzled it with his velvety nose. "What is his name?"

"His official name is Shebah Melech Gubar, meaning Phantom King of the Sands, in Arabic. However, I simply call him Phantom," Erik informed her. "He comes from a long and noble bloodline in Persia. Amir helped me acquire him when I visited his homeland."

"You have been to Persia?" At the mention of this, Christine's mind instantly returned to the rumors the women had been throwing around at the reception. Had Erik truly been disfigured by some jealous Shah? Was the forbidden love of a harem girl the reason he was now forced to wear a mask? If only she had the nerve to ask, but they were doing so well at remaining cordial, she hated to ruin it with her curiosity and questions.

"I lived there for quite a few years, having only returned to England four summers ago," Erik told her, patting Phantom's powerful neck as he spoke. "I had Phantom shipped over by boat soon after."

"I have never been anywhere," Christine said quietly. "In fact, this is the farthest I have ever been from the abbey. I don't remember if my family ever went anywhere before that."

"Would you like to travel?" Erik asked, almost afraid she would say yes. Leaving Summercrest at the moment was not an option for Erik and he sorely loathed the idea of disappointing his new wife with the news that they were home-bound.

"Perhaps someday, but for now, Summercrest is as much adventure as I need," she assured him, still focusing her attention on the Arabian.

"Do you know how to ride?" Erik asked, noticing how much she seemed to be enjoying his horse.

"Oh no, not at all," Christine shook her head sadly. "The only horse we had at the abbey was an old gray plow horse used to till up the soil in the garden and pull the hay cart. He would never have permitted any of us to ride him, no matter how many carrots we would offer him." Christine smiled as she thought of all the times the horse had tried to nip at the girls as they presented their offerings. "He was quite surly."

"Then I will have to teach you," he stated, rewarded for his offer by a genuine smile.

"Really?" Christine asked, excitement in her eyes. "On Phantom?"

"No, not on him," Erik stated firmly. "He would not be the best candidate for teaching. We will find you a gentle horse on which to learn…Phantom would not do at all." He could only imagine the nasty spills his high spirited Arabian would cause, should he dare to stick a novice rider on his back. It had taken years for he and his mount to come to a full understanding and allow even Erik to ride him.

Christine opened her mouth to ask more but was silenced when the stocky, bald-headed, stable master came walking in.

"Your pardon, sir," Joseph began, looking from Erik to Christine. "And my lady," the man added, giving a slight bow at the sight of her. "But it would appear that Master Dessan has arrived and wishes an audience with you out in the paddock."

"Amir?" Erik questioned, sounding surprised. "I wonder what brings him here so unexpectedly." He then turned to Christine and gestured towards the doors. "Will you join me in greeting our guest or would you rather stay here and visit with Phantom longer?"

Christine gave a side glance towards Joseph and seeing him still staring at her with his leering eyes, she quickly accepted Erik's invitation. There was just something about him that sent shivers down her spine and she wished she knew what it was. _She did not like that man at all._

Once they had emerged from the stables they saw Amir standing in the corral with a large smile on his face and a rope in his hand. At the end of the rope was one of the most beautiful dapple-grey horses that Christine had ever seen. It was a bit smaller than Erik's but obviously a full blood Arabian just the same.

"What is this?" Erik asked, approaching the wooden fence with a look of curiosity.

"A gift," Amir announced, his smile never fading.

"A gift?" Erik questioned, stepping onto the lower bar of the fence and swinging his body over the top with ease as he landed within the ring. "What did I do to deserve such a prize?"

"Nothing at all, since it is not for you" Amir informed him with a raise of his eyebrow. "This little lady is for Christine."

"For me?" Christine gasped, stepping closer to the fence.

"You might recall the meetings I told you I had scheduled the other day, well one of them was with a man I had ordered a few new horses from," he said, moving himself and the horse closer to the fence so that Christine could get a better look. "When I saw this pretty little thing, I just knew she would make a wonderful addition to Summercrest." He then looked over at Erik. "You had often said you wished to breed Phantom with a mare of equal bloodline. Well here is your chance."

Erik nodded as he stepped forward, running his hands down the mare's neck and withers, pleased with what he saw.

"She is still young, but will indeed be a fine broodmare in a year or so," he agreed. "What do I owe you for her?"

"Nothing," Amir countered. "As I said, she is a belated wedding gift for your wife," he said with a wink in Christine's direction.

"Thank you, Mister Dessan, but…I must admit that I do not know how to ride," she confessed with a slight look of embarrassment.

"That is quite all right, my dear," Amir said. "You will have plenty of time to learn, for this horse is not yet saddle trained, so she is not ready to be ridden either." He glanced back to Erik again, a look of humor on his face. "Do you think you remember how to train a horse to accept the saddle or do I need to assist you?"

"I can see to it that the horse is broken-in for Lady Christine, sir," Joseph spoke up, opening the gate and stepping forward. His presence and voice seemed to have a sudden and adverse effect on the Arabian and she lunged to the left, pulling the rope from Amir's hand as she raced to the far side of the corral.

"That will not be necessary," Erik informed his stable master, his tone showing displeasure for the man's intrusion as well as his choice of words. In his mind a horse was not to be _broken_, forced to bend to the absolute will of its master. It should be a mutual bond of trust and friendship between man and animal that leads it to _wish_ to bear the rider, not fear or force. "I will see to the horse's training myself." Erik then slowly walked towards the mare, speaking softly to calm her down as he gently took hold of the rope. Amir came up beside him and watched Erik stroke the horse between the eyes.

"I am told that she has been worked with some, but never bridle or saddle trained," Amir informed him. "So you will have to be gentle with her and allow her time to acclimate to her new home. She will balk at your commands, unless you first gain her trust."

Erik's eyebrow shot up as he looked over at his companion with suspicion. Something in Amir's tone made him wonder if the Persian was still talking about the horse…or perhaps someone else.

"How exactly would you recommend that I gain this trust, old friend?" he asked in a low tone, not wishing for his voice to carry to where Christine still stood by the far fence.

"The same way you did when you acquired Phantom, start slow and work your way into it," he explained, patting the horse gently. "Spend time with her, get her used to your voice, your touch and day by day take it one step further until she will accept you…I mean accept _Christine_," he finished, clearing his throat as he looked away with a sly smile.

Erik now knew for sure _why_ Amir had brought him the horse. It was obviously his friend's intent to give him a tangible example of how he felt Erik should be treating his new bride. And while at first he was a bit affronted by this, the more he thought about it the more the idea intrigued him. Could he implement many of the same principles he would employ in this endeavor to that of gaining the trust and respect of his wife? Amir was correct, the first step _would_ be to get the mare used to him, his voice and his touch. The idea did have merit. He would undoubtedly have to adjust things quite a bit… but it _could_ work.

"I think I take your meaning, Amir," Erik told him slowly, his mind already spinning with his new found idea.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Erik," Amir said, acting all innocent. "I have simply brought your lovely wife a gift, nothing more."

"I am not quite sure how I feel about that either," he told him through narrowed eyes. "Should I be concerned that you might have designs on my pretty new bride?"

"If I did," Amir replied with a slight chuckle. "You would indeed have reason to be concerned. After all, ladies find me quite irresistible." He did not give Erik a chance to argue the point as he turned and headed towards the fence where Christine waited, forcing his friend to follow along with the horse.

Erik waved at Joseph to leave the corral for fear that his presence might spook the mare once again. After he had vacated, they brought the horse close enough for Christine to be able to pet. She lifted her skirt and stepped up on the bottom rail, leaning over the top of the fence so that she could reach her better. Erik thought she looked like an enthusiastic child, her hands eagerly reaching out to touch her pretty new gift.

"What is her name, Mister Dessan?" Christine asked as she gently stroked the head of the accepting horse.

"Please, I insist that you call me Amir," he instructed her, stifling a laugh at the glare that Erik gave him over this. "Her Arabian name is Lana Azza Maliki, which means Gentle Little Angel. A fitting mount for one such as yourself."

"Gentle Little Angel…" Christine repeated quietly, testing out the long name for herself. "I shall call her Angel then, if that is acceptable."

"It is a fine name," Erik agreed. "And I will work with her every day so that soon she will be willing to carry you and we can go for pleasant rides all summer."

"I would enjoy that very much," she smiled, suddenly a bit shy by Erik's generosity and attention. "She is a marvelous gift, Mister Dessan…I mean, Amir," she corrected herself. "Thank you very much for your thoughtfulness."

"It is my pleasure, my lady," he nodded, before turning his attention to Erik. "So will you be asking me to stay for dinner or is the gift of a purebred Arabian not enough to merit an invitation?"

"I suppose it is," Erik answered, mulling it over. "But just barely." He then signaled for the stable hand, a young man of about twenty summers named Peter, to come over and take the horse from him, passing over Joseph since the mare seemed to have an aversion to the man. "See that she gets settled in and give her an extra helping of oats." He ordered as the three of them headed inside.

Dinner was soon served and once again Erik and Amir carried on a lively conversation, full of friendly jabs and thinly veiled sarcasm. Erik was pleased that more than once Christine found humor in their antics, and he did his best not to appear overly observant of her reactions. However, Amir's suggestion kept rolling around in his mind and he decided that now was as good a time as any to test his plan.

So when the meal was finished and they went to retire to the drawing room for drinks, Erik extended his arm to her, offering to escort her. He was a bit nervous that she might shy away, avoiding his touch at all costs, but instead she timidly accepted, linking her arm with his, much to his joy. It was a small gesture, but one that sent a thrill up his spine at the warmth of her hand. He hoped this was just the beginning of many more moments such as this. Throughout the rest of the evening he made a point to touch her often, lightly on the hand while they were sitting, a gentle bit of pressure on the small of her back as they stood by the fireplace and once he even dared to brush her hair aside when they were talking. Each time she did not flinch or shy away, giving him the needed courage to continue his experiment.

When the hour had grown late, they bid Amir goodnight and saw him to the door. Christine once more thanked him for the thoughtful gift, as Mr. Bower handed him his coat and held the door open.

"I will be back to check on your progress, Erik," Amir warned him, giving him a quick wink of his eye.

"Not too often I hope, I don't want you to become more of a nuisance than you already are," Erik grumbled, stepping forward and good-naturedly pushing him out the door before closing it rather abruptly.

"Goodnight Christine," Amir's voice was heard to say from behind the shut door, followed by a round of hearty laughter.

Erik rolled his eyes as he turned back around to face Christine, pleased to see her hand up to her lips as she tried to hide a giggle at the two of them. He was glad that she was not put off by their good-natured ribbing of each other. It was one thing he truly enjoyed about this friendship with Amir, the man simply could not be offended! Something that sat very well with Erik's foul temper.

"Will you be needing anything else, sir?" Mr. Bower asked, breaking Erik's gaze from Christine.

"No, thank you," he nodded, dismissing the servant. "That will be all for tonight."

"Very good, Master Erik," he then nodded towards Christine. "My lady. I bid you goodnight." Leaving the two alone, he headed towards his room.

Erik was just about to suggest that they retire for the evening as well, when Madam Giry appeared and asked to speak with him alone for a moment. Excusing himself, he stepped away from Christine as the two spoke in hushed whispers before he returned to her side.

"There are some matters I must attend to," he explained, his face suddenly a bit concerned. "How about you retire and I will join you when I am finished." He reached out and slipped his hand around her waist gently, still testing his theory. She allowed him to steer her towards the stairs, nodding her head in agreement. As she began to climb, she turned back around and wished Madam Giry goodnight as well, then headed for their room.

Erik waited until Christine was safely out of earshot before he turned back to Antoinette.

"Could this not wait till morning?" he asked in a frustrated tone. He had been enjoying the progress they had made together that day and he hated to have to interrupt it now.

"Your attention is needed in the east wing, as you are very well aware," the housekeeper chastised. "You have specific obligations that will not be put off or placated simply because you have a pretty new bride to steal your attention."

"Very well," Erik sighed, knowing in his heart that she was right. This had all come upon him so suddenly, giving him no time to prepare for the dividing of his time or attention and he needed to recall his duty. "I will come."

Yet as he headed towards the east wing, he found he could not keep his mind off of Christine who was now waiting for him upstairs in their room.

.

.

Hmmmm, what is Erik thinking? Let's hope Christine does not take offence to his plan! Let me know what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

.

Still loving all the reviews! I will be back in full force to answer reviews soon...the 16th is coming!

.

**Chapter 13**

**.**

**.**

A fire had been lit in their room in anticipation of their retiring and Christine found herself standing in front of it as she let her mind roam free. Today had been full of new and confusing discoveries, some of them curious…such as the secrets she knew still lay hidden in the east wing as well as the enticing way Erik had been acting all evening.

Despite the warmth of the fire she felt herself shiver as she wrapped her arms around herself and gave a slight smile. Each time he had touched her that evening she had felt the same thrill run though her and she wondered exactly what it meant. Less than a week ago she had never given any thought of being close to a man, let alone married to one. Now it was the one thing she could not shake from her mind.

She was Erik's wife and having him place his hand on hers tonight had not been frightening or unpleasant at all, in fact it was quite exhilarating. A part of her wondered if it was proper to feel this way, while the other side argued that they were married after all, how could it not be so? As a small smile crossed her lips she found she longed to feel his touch again.

.

An hour had passed and Erik was heading up to his room at last when he spotted Meg in front of him in the hallway.

"I was just going to see if her ladyship needed my assistance in dressing for bed," she told him, giving a graceful curtsy as he came near.

"No," Erik said, his mind working quickly. "She will not be requiring your help tonight, thank you." He then waved the perplexed maid off as he continued on past her. No indeed. Tonight Erik would provide all the assistance his little bride might need. He knew it was still far too soon to expect her to be ready for anything of the physical nature but he did so very much wish to continue with his trust exercise. So far he had felt it was going well, her reactions to his overtures had been very promising.

Erik arrived at his room and opened the door, finding Christine standing in front of the fireplace, lost in thought. He purposefully shut the door a bit louder than needed, in order to get her attention, watching her head snap up as their eyes met.

"I did not mean for you to wait on me," Erik explained as he came forward. "I half expected you to be asleep by now."

"I…I was just thinking," she told him, once more a bit nervous by his nearness in the confines of their bedroom. "Besides, Meg has not come up to help me and I am afraid that these dresses are not quite made to be removed unaided," she confessed.

"Then allow me," he offered, causing her eyes to widen at his words. When he saw her obvious fear he quickly explained. "You cannot sleep in your dress and it would seem rather foolish to summon Meg all the way up here at this late hour simply to help you undress. I am certain she has long since turned in for the night and I am perfectly capable of undoing a few buttons."

Christine could see the logic of his words and she certainly did not wish to offend him when he had been so kind to her all day. So with a nod of agreement she turned her back to him and pulled her hair to one side, hoping he did not notice the way her hand seemed to shake as she did.

Erik took a few steps closer and began to undo the buttons on the back of her dress, from her neckline all the way down to the small of her back. Each little pearl-sized impediment seemed to mock him as he went, tempting him with what they revealed, yet knowing he could not partake of it with anything but his eyes. When they were all undone he gently pushed the garment slightly off of her shoulders, exposing the lacings of her corset as the fabric parted. He had to stifle a groan as his slightly trembling fingers began to work on that next.

Christine felt each touch, each graze of his hand and she found herself once more shivering as the cool air touched her exposed skin. Yet she knew that was not the sole reason for the sensation. Erik seemed to be performing the duty of her lady's maid with both ease and efficiency, leaving her to wonder just how often he had executed such services in the past. She got the idea, from both Clair Kingsford and the way Erik acted, that he was no stranger to a lady's boudoir. However, she only had his own word to go on that he did not currently have a mistress hidden away somewhere. Once more she felt that stab of jealousy as she contemplated the other women he had been with in the past. The other girls he had undressed, kissed and taken to his bed. Yet she was his _wife_ now, not any of them, only her! Christine found herself praying desperately that she could in time learn how to make him forget them all and be satisfied with what little she had to offer.

When he was done, Erik leaned forward just a bit, until his lips were inches away from her ear. "There, you can now easily slip into a nightgown," he whispered in a husky voice.

"Th-thank you," she stuttered, reaching up as she gathered the now loose fitting gown against her chest and walked away towards the armoire to fetch her bed attire.

Erik took a steadying breath and did the same, sequestering himself behind the closed door of the washroom as he slipped off his clothes and put on his own night garments. He paused and waited a few extra minutes before returning to the main room, not wishing to burst in on Christine while she might still be changing. When he stepped out he saw that she was already in bed, the covers pulled up to her chin as she watched him with suspicious eyes. He had assured her that she held the reins in this situation and he had no intention of going back on that promise, yet he understood her concern. They were once again in a very intimate situation, one that could easily break a weaker man's will, leaving her vulnerable to his desires. But he was determined to gain her trust and if achieving that came at the expense of his own lustful urges, then that was simply how it must be.

Without a pause, Erik crossed the room and slid into bed, being very careful not to come anywhere near her as he settled down, one arm bent behind his head while the other one he kept securely at his side. There was an awkward silence that followed, causing Erik to frantically think of anything to say in order to break it. In the end, he did not have to, for it was Christine who spoke up timidly.

"I really do appreciate my new horse," she said, rolling over on her side and placing her hands beneath her pillow like she had done that morning. "It was very kind of Mister Dessan…I mean, Amir, to think of me that way."

"Yes…it was," Erik muttered, not liking the way she had said that. Should he now be concerned that this gesture had sparked some affection in his wife's heart for his friend? He must have let out some audible sound of his displeasure for she raised her head slightly and gazed at him with questioning eyes.

"Is something wrong," she asked. "Did I say something to upset you?"

"No," he said, giving her a side glance. He needed to proceed with caution, for fear that his temper might flare and he undo all the progress he had made thus far. "I, simply do not like the idea of another man showering _my_ wife with gifts."

"I am sure he meant no disrespect by it," Christine hurriedly interjected, propping herself up on her elbow as she looked at him with concern. "If it displeases you, I will return the horse. I would never keep it if you felt it was inappropriate for me to do so. I am sure Mister Dessan did not give it to me in order to solicit my affections."

"No, you may keep the horse," Erik assured her with a heavy sigh. He understood that Amir had done it only as an act of kindness...and to make a point about how Erik should attempt to gain his wife's trust. He knew full well where his friend's heart lay and while he wished him nothing but happiness, they both knew that the chance of his affections ever being requited were growing slimmer with each passing day.

Yet it still irked him that _he_ had not thought to give her a present himself and he would now be hard pressed to find one as magnificent as the Arabian mare. It was _his_ responsibility to make Christine smile the way she had when presented with the horse…not Amir. _Damn him_!

"Are you sure, Erik?" Christine persisted, not wanting to take the wrong course in this matter and anger her husband. "I don't mind, truly."

"The horse is yours and I was wrong to even mention it. I have no objection to you keeping her." He then rolled over to face her as well, their eyes locking as they watched each other from a mere foot apart. "Will you join me every afternoon as I saddle train the mare? It would be good for you to be there since she will be your horse. She needs to become familiar with you if you are to ever ride her."

"I would enjoy that very much," Christine confessed, excited to be outdoors and present as he worked. "You will still have to teach me how to ride though," she reminded him.

"I have not forgotten," he assured her with a slight smile. "I will make sure to order you a riding outfit or two. We can't have you ill-attired for your lessons." He then cocked his head to the side, as if in deep thought. "Perhaps a few more dresses as well, the ones you were fitted for when you arrived will hardly be enough to last you through the week."

"Please do not go to any trouble," Christine argued, not wanting to seem like a burden.

"I do not find it troublesome to care for my wife," Erik argued, a bit offended. "You are the lady of Summercrest and I will not have anyone saying I keep you in rags."

"I would hardly call the beautiful dresses I already have rags," she laughed. "I have never been so splendidly attired. Until two days ago I had only two dresses to my name and both were exactly the same as you first saw me in. A dress, I might add, which caused you to mistake me for a servant girl."

"I was a fool to ever assume such a thing," Erik told her, his hand reaching out as he let his fingers run down her cheek in a gentle manner. "Even if you were covered in sackcloth and dirt, your beauty and grace would still shine through."

Christine was stunned by his words, the tenderness in his voice and his touch was causing a warmth to spread over her, coloring her face a rosy pink. The more her skin came into contact with his the more she seemed to crave it, anticipating the next time he would grace her with his touch.

Erik could feel his own body becoming heated and he had to mentally force it to obey his strict command to simmer down. He knew he could not remain this close to her, gazing into her haunting eyes without desiring to break his vow to her. So in the end, he dropped his hand and gave a reluctant order.

"You should go to sleep now, Christine," he instructed, laying down on his back once more as he stared at the ceiling. "It has been a long day and we have much to do tomorrow."

"As you wish," she reluctantly agreed. She had been enjoying their conversation as well as the feel of his fingers against her cheek and did not wish for it to end. Yet, when Erik sat up and blew out the only two candles still burning in the room she knew the moment had passed. So lying back down, she rolled over onto her side, facing away from him so that he could not see her look of disappointment in the remaining light coming from the fireplace.

"Goodnight," she whispered in a resigned voice.

"Goodnight, Christine," he replied gently, his words and tone enveloping her like a soft, warm blanket.

.

.

It was happening again…one of her nightmares. Christine had experienced these most of her life, starting the very night after she awoke in the hospital and was told of her parent's murder. She had once thought her head injury and subsequent memory loss was a blessing, but now as the dreams grew more real, details more distinguished, Christine found she struggled even harder to recall the events of that fateful night.

It always began the same way, she was hiding in a small alcove under the stairs of what she believed to be her former home. The housemaid – Hilda, she thought her name had been – had shoved her in there when the intruders had begun to ransack the house. She huddled there in fear, flinching at every loud noise, every crash of breaking furniture and finally the screams of terror. There were several that made it past her tiny hands that covered her ears, but it had been the cry from her mother that had driven the petrified little girl from her hiding place. She had burst from the alcove and raced to where the sound had come, hoping to be of aid to her beloved parents…but she had come too late.

This was where her dreams turned hazy, yet the sight of her mother and father lying on the floor in a pool of their own blood had always remained as crystal clear as the day she experienced it. There were faceless shapes all around, their wicked laughter and muddled voices fading in and out as she continued to shake from fear and grief. It was as if she were now watching everything from the sidelines, gazing at herself in child form, standing there with her eyes wide and a scream forever silenced in her throat. She watched as she ran forward, desperate to touch her parents, to shake them in hopes that they would awaken…but she knew they never would. Christine watched in horror as two large and brutally strong hands appeared from nowhere and grabbed her, hauling her up before his hulking shape. His breath smelled of tobacco and liquor and even now she could feel the painful grip he held on her two small arms. Then something strange happened, something that had never occurred before in all the times she had ever had these nightmares. The men spoke! This time Christine could understand what they were saying, their wicked voices like thunder in her ears, causing her to flinch at every sound.

_"I told you to dispose of everyone in the house!"_ the faceless man who held her bellowed.

_"We did, sir,"_ another voice assured him from off to the side…a voice that now seemed eerily familiar. That was odd, she had never had any feelings of recollection before. _"We took care of the butler and the maid…but we never saw this little miss."_

_"Must I do everything myself?"_ the man shouted, not sounding at all pleased by this. _"How hard can it be to do away with one small child?" _It did not seem to be a question he required an answer to and so the man continued on. _"Allow me to demonstrate!"_

It was then that Christine felt the crushing pressure of a hand around her neck, her own small fingers clawing frantically at them in an attempt to take a life-giving gasp of air. The man was now holding her up by only one hand, making even her slight build add to the strain on her throat. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move and at that moment little Christine was sure her life had come to an end. From where her older version stood, frozen in place, she could see that her younger self had only seconds left and she began to shout and yell, begging the man to release her, to put her down, to let her go.

"NO! Please stop…let me go! NO!" Christine screamed as she sat up in bed, her hands still clawing at her throat as she gasped for air.

Erik had been sleeping soundly when he heard the cry. Instinctively, he almost bounded from his bed, ready to rush to the east wing as he always did when frantic calls would wake him. But as he became aware of the source, he realized it was much closer to him than usual…the sounds were coming from beside him – _from Christine!_

Instantly he reached out, grabbing at her wild arms, pulling her around so that she was now looking at him, her terrified face illuminated by the dying firelight.

"Christine, it is all right," he said, trying to keep his voice reassuring and not on the edge of panic like he felt. "You are having a bad dream, take it easy. You are just fine, nothing is going to harm you." He kept up his words, holding her by her wrists as gently as he could while she continued to struggle against him. "Shhhh, everything is all right." Erik had become used to saying such things over the years, doing his best to chase nightmares away, but this time it was different…this time it was his wife.

At the sound of Erik's calming voice, Christine was able to pull herself from the bonds of sleep and into an awakened state. Her traumatized mind began to do its best to adjust to her surroundings, convincing herself that she was no longer back in the past.

"E-Erik?" she asked, her eyes focusing on his face as he stared at her with concern.

"Yes, it is me," he confirmed, letting loose of one of her hands as he brought it up to her face, cupping her cheek as he brushed her visible tears away with his thumb. "You were having a nightmare. Are you all right?"

"I…I…don't know," she breathed, her free hand reaching back to her throat as she recalled the strangling hold that had been there seconds earlier. No, not seconds…_years ago_.

"You were screaming to be let go, begging someone to stop," he told her, recalling the words she had yelled when he had woke. "Can you remember what happened…would you like to tell me about it?"

Christine's mind was a whirl, the memories so vivid, so heart-poundingly fresh that all she could do was shake her head back and forth, more tears spilling down her cheeks as she shut her eyes. Why had it been so clear this time? She could still not see faces, she never could, but this time there were voices. This time she had heard what they had said, the evilness of each man's words chilling her to the bone. She had always known her parents had died that night but now to understand that everyone in the house had been murdered as well…it was a new blow indeed. The voices had been so evil that she could almost feel it like a weight upon her, yet why had the one almost sounded familiar?

"It might be beneficial to talk about it," Erik insisted. "To help you realize it was just a dream."

"But…but that is just it…it wasn't a dream," she sobbed, pulling her other hand from his as she brought them both up to cover her face. "It is never _only _a dream…it is real."

Erik was shocked and found himself at a loss for words. What could his innocent little wife have been through in her past that would merit such night terrors? It hurt his heart to think of her so afraid like this and he did the first thing he could think of that might offer her some measure of comfort. Erik wrapped his arms around her trembling form and pulled her to him.

"Shhhhh, I am here, nothing bad can happen, you are safe," he repeated, running his hand down the back of her head to the middle of her spine over and over in a soothing manner. At his kind gesture she only seemed to cry more, desperately clinging to him as she now felt safe enough to let the floodgates break free.

Erik just continued to hold her, rocking her gently while keeping up the constant string of comforting words until her tears subsided and she was now reduced to a few hiccups and the occasional sniffle. Yet even then he refused to let her go, knowing she needed the closeness as much as he desired it.

"Do you think you can go back to sleep now?" he asked, loving how her soft hair felt between his fingers. "Have we chased the visions far enough away for you to get some rest?"

"I…I think so," she whispered, her face still buried in his chest.

"I will not resurrect them tonight by asking you to tell me what they were about, but tomorrow in the light of day, I would like it very much if you would explain them to me," he insisted, his voice kind but firm. He would not be dissuaded. "I cannot protect you from these fears if I do not know what they consist of. Will you do that for me…can you?"

Christine was quiet for a long while, her mind desperately trying to determine if she could fulfil his request. It was not that she did not wish to tell him - though the idea of reliving it frightened her even more - she was just not sure if she could remember it all. Each nightmare had indeed revealed more and more of the incident, but still, all these years later she did not know the whole story. Yet Erik was being so kind, so supportive, that she felt she had to at least try.

"I will do my best," she assured him.

"That's my brave girl," he praised her as he moved just enough to kiss her on the top of her head. They sat there for a while more, neither one wishing to break the tender moment and return to harsh reality.

"Erik…?" she whispered at last, bringing up one hand to wipe at her tear stained cheeks.

"Yes, Christine?" Erik replied, his eyes slowly opening from the almost trance-like state he had lulled himself into by stroking her hair.

"Can…can you please…hold me until I fall back asleep?" she asked, her childlike plea once more pulling at his heart.

"Of course," he assured her, lightly repositioning her in his embrace as he lay back down on the bed, bringing her head down upon his chest while his arms wrapped around her waist. "There you go, you just rest. I will be here all night if you need anything."

Christine was amazed at how safe and protected she felt laying there in his arms and her body began to relax, lulling her into a soothing slumber.

"Thank you, Erik," she murmured, a yawn breaking up her sentence a bit. "Thank you." Then she was asleep.

It took a few more minutes for Erik to succumb to the pull of slumber as well, his heart still beating wildly from the warm contact he was now sharing with his wife. This was what he had longed to do for two nights now, but had not dared. If only it had been prompted by trust and affection and not by her confounded nightmare. No…not a nightmare, _a memory_. A memory he hoped to soon know the truth behind.

.

.

Erik had not slept long, he had woke with the sun and had laid there listening to the gentle breathing of Christine while his hand continued to lightly run up and down her arm that lay across his chest. She was amazingly soft, her skin felt like the silkiest cream and her hair smelled of lavender, intoxicating two of his senses. He wished he was in a better position to look at her but he feared any movement on his part might disrupt her sleep and he was certainly in no hurry to end the blissful moment. But end it must and it came in the form of a knock at the bedroom door. With a groan he felt Christine stir at the sound.

"Master," a call from Madam Giry was heard. "Master Erik, might I please have a word with you. It is rather urgent."

"Erik?" Christine mumbled, sitting up as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She gave a slight gasp as she suddenly realized the position she had been laying in. Jerking backwards she gripped the covers and pulled them up to her chin. "I…I am sorry…I didn't mean to…"

"It is quite all right," he soothed, almost amused by her look of shock. "You were overcome by a bad dream and asked that I hold you so you could return to sleep. Nothing happened, it was all quite innocent."

"A bad dream?" she asked, looking off to the left as if she were desperately trying to recall the nature of it. After a few moments she seemed to remember and looked down as a pained expression crossed her face. "I am sorry…I should have warned you that I have such spells from time to time. I must apologize for disturbing your sleep last night and I hope that…"

"Nonsense, Christine," Erik chided, silencing her by placing his finger to her quivering lips. "You need not apologize for anything. You simply had a nightmare and I was glad I could offer you some comfort at such a traumatic moment. It is the least a husband can do for his wife," he pointed out, a slight smile tugging at his exposed lips.

"Master Erik!" came Madam Giry's voice once more, this time more demanding.

"Damn you, Antoinette!" Erik muttered harshly under his breath. She would be the death of him…or at least drive him to drink once more – regardless of his oath to not overindulge again. He gripped the blankets and threw them aside as he rose from the bed and walked towards the sound of the irritating woman. Yanking open the door he glared at her, willing his thoughts of annoyance to be conveyed through his angry eyes. "What on earth is so blasted important that you need to disturb us at this hour?"

"There is…_something_ that needs your attention. Now!" she told him, choosing her words carefully should Christine be listening…which she was.

From the almost frantic look in her eyes Erik knew exactly what that something was and with a nod of understanding he turned his attention back to Christine, who was now sitting up in bed watching him with curiosity.

"I am afraid I must go," he told her, reaching over to grab his robe off the back of a nearby chair and slipping into it. "Nothing to worry about, Christine, just business. Meg will be up soon to help you dress and I recommend you take a nice soothing bath followed by some breakfast. I will join you later." With a nod of his head he withdrew from the room and was gone.

_What had just happened_…Christine asked herself. One minute she was waking up in the comforting arms of her curious husband and now she was left alone while he mysteriously ran off to attend to the unknown. She recalled that she had considered asking him point blank about the subjects that had been perplexing her, but somehow whenever she was with him, the moment never presented itself. Well she would have to see that it did…and for the sake of her sanity, the sooner the better!

Her mind then drifted back to her dream and how vivid it had been this time…so revealing in many details that had long since eluded her. She had heard voices this time…and the idea made her shiver. If only she could see faces…as well as remember all the pertinent details that might someday help to put the men who murdered her beloved parents behind bars. Yet in doing so she would have to relive that night…and that scared her more than anything.

However, this time Erik had been there to comfort her when she woke and cried out for help. He had chased the visions away and held her in his protective embrace for the rest of the night. Why had he done that? She had been so distraught that she had not given any thought to propriety…and yet he _was_ her husband. There was nothing improper about him holding her while she slept, in fact she found it rather nice. He had been warm and strong, reassuring and gentle all at once and she could not remember ever going back to sleep so easily after one of her dreams before. She also recalled the scent of him filling her with visions of spices and musk, all wrapped up in a package that was both hard as stone and yet tender as his touch. She found that her mind began to wander, imagining what lay beneath the silk wrappings of his night shirt, what his chest might look like. Christine had never seen an unclothed man before and found that she suddenly wished to know her husband on a more intimate level. Was he truly as muscular as he had felt while she rested against him last night, listening to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat? Without him there to hold her she was certain that she would have remained awake for the rest of the night, huddled in a ball as she wept herself sick…like she had done countless times in the past. Christine made a mental note to thank him properly for his kindness later that day.

It was then that she recalled the request he had made of her…he had asked that she tell him her tale. He wanted her to relate to him the tragedy that was her life and she was suddenly afraid that he would not understand. Not because he was not a man of the world, capable of comprehending the evils of life, but that she was not able to recall that night's events in detail. The doctors had said her memory block was due to the head trauma she had suffered that night. While still others attributed it to mental distress, saying that her young mind could not process what had taken place and simply refused her access to the events. Either way, she only prayed that he would be satisfied with what little she had to offer in the way of an explanation.

.

.

Oh look, more of the mystery is revealed! Hope you are putting some of the clues together. You will be learning even more soon!


	14. Chapter 14

Here is your next chapter! And it is a LONG one. Enjoy!

.

**Chapter 14**

.

.

The light tapping on the door signaled Meg's arrival and she was soon distracted by the soothing bath that Erik had suggested. After that she was sent downstairs to the dining hall where Bridget served her a lovely breakfast - be it a lonely one, with no one to talk to. What exactly was Erik doing this morning that was keeping him from her company?

She had just finished eating and was heading out of the dining hall when she saw Erik coming down the stairs towards her. He had apparently been back to their room, for he was now dressed in a pair of riding slacks, high boots and a brown jacket over a white cotton shirt. His shoulders seemed slumped and his eyes seemed filled with concern as he rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. Whatever was on his mind did not seem to please him and Christine wondered if she should ask him about it or wait for him to offer up the information. She did not get a chance to decide however, because at that moment Erik noticed her standing there and his demeanor seemed to change as he approached.

"I apologize for not sharing breakfast with you, it simply could not be avoided," he told her, reaching out and taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips.

The feather light kiss sent a shiver down her spine and she could feel herself blush slightly. She really needed to control her emotions better. He was her husband after all and Erik had every right to touch her in this manner, a manner she found very pleasing.

"I was hoping you would like to accompany me to the stables and we can spend some more time training your new horse." he suggested, offering a distraction from her thoughts as well as an explanation for his attire.

"Yes, that sounds lovely," she agreed, eager to see once again the gift Amir had given her. "We could stop by the kitchen first and get you something to eat if you are hungry," she suggested.

"No, Antoinette brought up a tray of food while I…worked," he assured her, hoping she did not notice how he stumbled over his words.

Almost on cue, Madam Giry came around the corner and began her descent down the stairs as well, carrying a platter of empty dishes in her hand, not once looking in their direction. From the amount of plates, Christine could not imagine that Erik had eaten it all himself, for even in the dining room when they shared a meal he had always been rather conservative. Had Erik dined alone…or with someone? He had sworn to her that he had no mistress, but that still did not explain who the mysterious Rose was. Was _she_ the one he had chosen to have breakfast with instead of her?

"Christine?" Erik's voice asked, breaking her from her thoughts. She noticed that he was now holding out his arm to her, offering to escort her to the stables and she quickly accepted so as not to arouse suspicion. It would not be proper to confront him about this in the middle of the foyer where any servant passing by would hear her line of questioning. Thus temporarily pushing her curiosity aside, Christine followed him out the door, eager to share such a lovely day with him in the open air.

As per his master's instructions, Peter had taken over the care of Christine's horse, given that the Arabian had taken an instant dislike to Joseph. So the young man led her out to the arena when directed. Erik had stripped off his outer coat, leaving him in only his white shirt and vest, as he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Yesterday they had spent a brief time getting the horse used to being touched, by him as well as Christine.

Today, however, he wanted to work on getting the mare to _request_ their attention, to come to them, not simply tolerate them. Horses were social animals, living in groups and would take their lead from one principal stallion. Erik needed Angel to recognize humans, especially Christine, as the leader of her new herd. He did this by spending some time stroking the horse, brushing its mane and neck and then walking a few feet away. At first the horse stood there, unsure what to do, but after a few moments it hesitantly walked forward and nudged Erik's arm, as if asking to be pet again. Once more he spent time showering the horse with his attention, then he stopped and walked away, this time even further. It did not take long before Angel made her way over to where Erik now stood, once more asking with a gentle shove for more.

The third time Erik did this he walked over to where Christine was standing just inside the paddock gate, watching him as he had worked. When she gave him a quizzical look, he quickly explained what he was trying to accomplish.

"I am attempting to make your horse curious as to what we are doing," he said as he stood before her, his back purposefully turned as if ignoring the mare. "I do not want her to simply tolerate you or begrudgingly carry you as a rider; I want her to do so willingly, out of respect and affection. It is important that she crave our company, that she is not nervous around us."

"It appears that your tactics are working," Christine said with a smile as Erik heard the sound of hoofs approaching, just before he felt the nudge of a nose against his arm.

"It certainly does," he chuckled, handing her the brush he held and guided her towards the horse. "Now I want you to try. Do just as I did; show her attention, then walk away and see if she follows."

Erik spent several minutes showing Christine how to brush and care for Angel before he left Christine to bond with her horse. He leaned up against the railing and watched with pride as his petite bride worked on gaining the mare's trust. She was very good with animals, he could see that immediately, and he found himself wondering what kind of mother she would be. Her quiet and gentle nature seemed to have a calming effect on everyone around her, including the spirited mare.

As Erik stared at her, he began to think about how he could use today's lesson with the horse and adapt it to his efforts with Christine. He could tell from her reactions yesterday and this morning that she no longer seemed to shy away from his touch, but now he needed to see if she could grow to_ want_ it as well. Could he get her to initiate the contact between them? And if so…how? She had asked him to hold her last night after her nightmare but that was different - he wanted it to be motivated by desire, not fright or the need for reassurance. He would have to think on it some more.

When Erik decided they had accomplished enough for one day, he indicated to Christine that it was time to go, allowing Peter to take the mare back inside the stable. It was getting close to lunch time but he was reluctant to head directly back inside, instead suggesting they take the long route back through the gardens. Erik not only wanted to try out his new tactic but he also wished for a few minutes alone with his wife in order to ask her the question that had been burning in his mind since last night. What was it that had caused her to have such a terrible dream and make her wake screaming in terror?

Erik was so lost in his thought that he failed to notice he had led her far too close to the walled in garden she had spotted the previous day. The very one he would rather she not see at all. Well it was too late now.

"Could we please take a look in here?" she asked, pointing to the small opening in the tall brick wall that surrounded the area, hiding it from sight.

Erik wanted to say no, to take her by the arm and steer her away from it, yet how was he supposed to ask her to open up to him if he refused to even show her a silly garden? So with a heavy sigh, one laced with sorrow and pain, he nodded his agreement and reluctantly followed her inside.

The place was just as he left it, most everything now dead and lifeless, the bushes and shrubbery overgrown and wild. Each flowerbed was empty of its original contents and instead overrun with weeds, making it difficult to tell where the boundaries were between them and the winding path. In the far corner was a large oak tree, the leaves on it even seemed to be sad and withered looking, due to lack of attention. From one of the larger branches there hung a lonely swing, the ropes now brittle and frayed, barely strong enough to support the simple wooden plank used for sitting. That sight alone caused Erik to turn away, not willing to look at it for fear it brought back far too many memories. Memories of happier times that he feared would never come again.

"Why has this garden been left unattended?" Christine asked, touching one of the tendrils of a climbing rose bush, noticing how it easily snapped off in her hand. "Everything is practically dead."

"It was just an old unused children's garden," Erik said, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I simply saw no further use for it and thought other areas of the grounds deserved more attention."

"It seems wrong to see such a pretty spot go to waste," she muttered to herself as she walked further inside. She gave a sad shake of her head when she saw a small birdbath and a little stone bench practically covered in moss, dirt and leaves. "Such a shame."

Erik watched her as she wandered around, looking at the place with an unhappy expression. She was far too tenderhearted for her own good and it grieved him to think that the evils of life had somehow touched her in the past. He was about to call her back, to tell her it was time to go, but stopped when a thought occurred to him. Now would be a perfect time to try his new tactic. So without telling her, he slipped out the exit and stood a few yards away with his back turned, as if he were lost in thought. Several minutes went by and he began to wonder if his attempt was a miserable failure but then he heard her footsteps coming up behind him and the gentle touch of her hand on his arm. _Success!_

"Is everything all right, Erik?" she asked, looking up at him with concern. "You didn't tell me you were leaving."

"Yes, all is well. I was just thinking," he told her, secretly pleased with himself. If she did not desire his company, she would have preferred to linger in the garden, not choosing to seek him out. However, now that his experiment had yielded results, he wondered if his questions might as well. "I was thinking about what happened last night and was hoping we could talk about it."

"Oh," Christine answered quietly, looking away.

"I only wish to help you, Christine," he said, touching his finger to her chin and turning her head back to him. "I want to protect you from the things that frighten you, but I cannot unless you tell me how."

Christine stared at him for a few moments, her mind spinning with both trepidation and anxiety. He was her husband, he had a right to know everything about her, yet she feared telling him. _Could_ she tell him?

"I…I will try," she agreed, her eyes already brimming with tears just at the thought of recanting the tale. "I will tell you all I can recall."

"That is all I ask," he assured her, taking her by the hand and leading her over to an ornate metal bench beneath one of the nearby trees. Once they were seated, he continued to hold her hand comfortingly as he waited for her to speak.

"In…in my dreams I see bits and pieces of the night my parents died, the night they were…murdered." She found just saying that last word made her flinch.

"Someone killed them?" This was a shock to Erik. Of course she had told him they had died but he had not thought to ask how. "Was their killer ever brought to justice?"

"No. No one knows who did it," she said with a shake of her head. "I…I was the only one who survived that night and I cannot recall more than a few flashes of memories. Even those are sketchy and of no help."

"You saw what happened? You were there?" So that was what caused her fear. To see such horrors played out before one's eyes had the power to cause irrevocable damage, _something Erik knew all too well_.

"In the dreams I have had in the past, I remember our housekeeper hiding me in an alcove beneath the stairs," she continued. "I can see shapes but not faces, hear noises but I could never understand anything that was said. Yet last night I heard voices…voices that spoke clear words for the first time, and what they said frightened me."

"Tell me what you heard," Erik urged, squeezing her hand gently once more to encourage her. When she seemed to falter, he leaned in, running his fingers down the side of her now tearstained cheek. "Please, Christine…try."

"There…there were two voices," she said after a few more moments and a deep breath. "Yet, I could see more shapes around them, telling me there was a group of men that night. From where I hid beneath the stairs I heard my mother scream and I came out, thinking I could be of some help, I can only assume. I ducked past those standing around and ran into the room, only to see both her and my father lying on the floor…dead. I must have screamed, for one of the men grabbed me, lifting me up and holding me out before him. His voice was deep and angry and I could feel his fingers pinching into my arms as he held me so tightly. He asked someone why I had not been…been disposed of…why I had not been killed along with the others."

"This man wanted you dead?!" Erik was aghast. "Why on earth would they wish to harm a mere child?"

"Why had they killed my parents?" Christine asked rhetorically, making it clear that she did not know the answer to either question. "No one ever discovered the reason for anything that took place that night."

"Please continue," Erik pressed, wishing to understand more.

"There was a second voice…one that I felt sounded familiar, although I had never heard voices in my dream before last night." And it was true, for though she could not even describe it, she had the distinct impression she had heard it somewhere before, she just could not put her finger on where. "He answered the first man, saying that they had not seen me before then, probably because I had been hiding. This angered the other man even more and he said he would do the job himself. And that is when he…he…" Christine's strength left her at that point and she collapsed into Erik's awaiting arms as he pulled her close and rocked her back and forth.

"It is all right, no one can hurt you now," he said in a soothing tone as he stroked the back of her hair. "Take your time, but you need to tell me the rest, Christine. You must."

"He…he grabbed me by the neck and he held me up as if he were going to strangle me," she told him, sobbing into his chest as her tears dampened his shirt and vest. "I clawed at his hand, desperate to get air but he was too strong…I couldn't fight him…I was so afraid."

"I am sure you were," he agreed, his voice low and quiet as he tried to calm her down. "How did you escape?"

"I…I can't remember," she revealed. "My dreams have never gone beyond that moment…the moment I thought I was going to die. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital almost a week later. They said they found me at the house the following day, barely alive. I had a very bad head wound, causing the doctors to believe that I might never wake up. When I did, all memory of that night had been wiped from my mind and they had to tell me that my parents were gone, that I was alone in the world…except for my uncle."

"Maximillian," Erik nodded, his voice filled with disdain for the man.

"Yes, he was my father's only living relative and there was no one left from my mother's side of the family," she confirmed. "He was there in the room when I woke up and he came back day after day as he tried to get me to remember anything from that night, but I simply couldn't. At first I thought he cared, that he would take me in since he was the only family I had left but he didn't. As soon as I was well enough, I was taken right from the hospital to the school at the abbey."

"He just sent you away? His only niece?" Erik asked, once more shocked at the treatment she had received at the hands of her uncle. "Did he at least visit you?"

"He came for a few hours two years later, but only to have me sign papers for him that dealt with my parent's estate," she explained, her sobs now reduced to a few sniffles as Erik reached into his pocket and handed her a handkerchief. "Then over the years he came two more times, again with more papers for me to sign. By the time I realized what it was my uncle wanted, he had forced me to sign away most of my inheritance, leaving me completely at his financial mercy."

"So he stole your fortune and any means of life you might have inherited, leaving you dependent on him," Erik surmised, his eyes growing dark with a look of hatred. "This is why you felt compelled to marry a masked freak you had never met, because of the power and threats he held over you?"

"Yes…I mean…no," she said, pulling back from him as she looked up at him. "I admit that I did come to Summercrest against my will. I had nowhere else to go and if I defied him he said he would…well you know what he said he would do," she gave a visible shudder as she recalled the threat of a life working in a brothel. "But that was _not_ why I agreed to marry you. I said yes to you because you were kind to me…and you asked me what _I_ wanted. Not since I can recall has anyone cared to ask my opinion on anything…and it was nice to simply be asked, to have someone want to hear what I had to say for a change. _That_ is why I agreed to marry you, Erik…because you _asked_ me."

Erik sat there and stared at her for a long time, stunned by what she had said. Here she was admitting that she had chosen him, not simply been forced into it – though in reality Erik knew her options had been severely limited. Yet in _her_ mind, she had agreed to this bizarre arrangement because she wished to. All because he had taken the time to ask her.

"I…I am pleased to hear that," Erik said at last, doing his best to speak around the lump in his throat. "Does this mean that you are happy here at Summercrest?" He truly prayed her answer would be yes, but perhaps it was too much to ask this early in the game.

"I can remember so few moments of true happiness in my life that I am not quite sure. But I know that I am not _unhappy_," she admitted, looking down once more. "If I am to answer truthfully, I must confess that I have had more moments of contentment here with you in the last few days than I ever remember in the past nine years at the abbey." She found that she could not raise her eyes to meet his and her heart seemed to be beating faster. "I have never told anyone the things I have just revealed to you about my past…about my parents. I have been afraid to, afraid no one would understand."

Erik leaned in and cupped his hands around her face, looking down at her with tenderness.

"You must never be afraid to tell me anything," he insisted. "You are my wife and it is my duty, as well as my privilege, to care for you, to listen to you and understand what you are feeling. It pleases me to know you trust me enough with such things and I will strive to deserve such faith. However, you must promise that you will tell me of any further recollections you have on the subject, for I truly wish to aid you in your search for answers." "

"You have been very kind to me, Erik. For that I am truly grateful," she told him, her sincerity shining through every word.

"No, it is I who am in your debt," he argued, moving his hands so that he could tip her chin up slightly. "You have brought the breath of life back to Summercrest, chasing away some of the gloom that has surrounded this place for years. I am very pleased that you have agreed to stay."

"I will remain here as long as you have need of me," she whispered, her eyes suddenly fixated on his lips that were mere inches away from hers.

"Oh Christine, you must never doubt that you are needed," he replied, leaning in slowly until his lips met hers, brushing them ever so lightly as he delivered only the hint of a kiss. "You are needed quite desperately."

Christine was not sure what might have happened next but the unexpected sound of men talking and quickly approaching, brought the two out of their private moment quite suddenly. Christine jumped, sliding back from Erik as she looked away in embarrassment. Three men came around one of the hedges, with several gardening tools in their hands as they laughed and talked amongst themselves. When they saw their master and his new bride sitting on the bench in front of them they stopped short, looking stunned to find them there. Erik appeared none too pleased by their interruption and they could almost see his temper begin to rise as he stood up from the bench.

"Forgive us, Master Erik," the elderly grounds keeper said, apologizing for his men as well. "We did not mean to disturb you. We can work in another area today if you and Lady Christine wish to remain."

"No, we were just leaving," Erik told him, his voice barely masking his irritation. He could see from the blush on Christine's cheeks that the moment had passed and it was best that he not try and force its return. "We should go inside," he announced, extending his hand and helping her rise.

Christine allowed him to lead her down the winding path back to the mansion, all the while keeping her head lowered, unwilling to meet his gaze. She had opened up to Erik, told him things she had never thought she would reveal to anyone and yet with a simple touch he had calmed her fears. Last night she had been terrified, reliving her worst nightmare and still slept the rest of the evening quite peacefully in his strong arms. Christine was beginning to realize that while her situation was not ideal, she was far better off than she had ever imagined she would be when her uncle came to fetch her from the abbey. Erik was still a mystery and yet she had never felt safer. Could it be that she was beginning to trust the perplexing man she called her husband?

When they arrived, Mr. Bower announced that lunch was ready and after cleaning up they adjourned to one of the sitting rooms where Bridget served them. They made small talk, exchanging pleasant glances but nothing was said about what almost took place in the garden. Christine's silence was mostly due to embarrassment, as well as being slightly alarmed by the feelings he had provoked in her with his tender kiss. While Erik's mind was busy trying to figure out how to reestablish the intimacy they shared. His tactics had been working marvelously and he decided that he needed to do all he could to ensure they continued. So while he ate he concocted another plan to further his experiment.

"I must beg your indulgence, Christine, for I am afraid there is some paperwork that requires my attention this afternoon," he explained, standing up as he removed his napkin from his lap and laid it on his plate. "Will you be able to find something to entertain yourself with until dinner?"

"I am sure I can find something to occupy my time," she assured him, a touch of disappointment in her voice. She had been having such a lovely day with him that she hated to part even for a short while. Yet she understood that as the master of the house, his time was not always his own…or hers. She still wished she had a purpose, something she could help with but so far Erik had not seemed forthcoming with any meaningful assignment. Was the lady of the house truly to be at her leisure all day long? How tedious.

Erik bid her farewell and headed to his study, purposefully leaving the door slightly ajar as he entered. His hope was that she would become bored and come looking for him, seeking out his company of her own free will. So far each experiment had worked out beautifully and he had high hopes for this one as well. He wondered if this was what Amir had in mind when he gave Erik this idea. Probably not…his friend was not as quick witted as he was. He knew there was the chance he would be disappointed and yet he was willing to wait and find out. So sitting down at his desk he leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head…and waited.

Erik had only been gone for a few minutes and already Christine was bored. There was simply nothing to do and she felt she could only read so many books or sip so many cups of tea before she would go mad. She thought back to what had occupied her time at the abbey and found that she had so little free time that she had never cultivated a hobby. She enjoyed cooking but as the lady of the house she was sure that was out of the question. Gardening had interested her but as was just demonstrated, the groundskeeper and his men had the job quite in hand. So with reading once more left as her only distraction, she headed to the library and took up her favorite spot in front of the fireplace.

Not even an hour had passed when Christine shut the book with a loud thump. _This was ridiculous_, she thought to herself. There had to be something more productive she could be doing with her time, even if it was simply to offer her assistance with cooking the evening meal. She had been brought up to value hard work and even to find it rewarding. The sisters at the abbey had been more than insistent that idle hands were the devil's playground and so they were always kept busy. When an image of Sister Margret came into her mind, Christine suddenly realized that she had not thought of letting them know of her situation or her wellbeing. Perhaps writing a letter to them would not only keep her busy but offer them a measure of comfort if they were worried about her. Yes, she would write them a letter…and she knew just the place!

Erik had just about given up hope that Christine might indeed seek out his company when he heard a light tapping at the door to his study.

"Erik?" she called, peeking her head inside.

"Come in," he offered, doing his best to hide his pleased smile. "Is there something you need?" He hoped she would say _his company_.

"I…I was wondering if I might bother you for some stationary in which to write a letter," she asked, entering shyly as she made her way to his desk. "I would like to write to the abbey and let them know what became of me."

"That is very thoughtful of you," he complimented, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out some fine linen paper and a fountain pen. He handed it to her and waited patiently to see if she would now leave or wish to remain. He did not have to wait long for his answer.

"May I use your writing area in the corner to compose my letter?" she asked, looking at the small wooden desk and tufted chair. "I promise I will be quiet and won't bother you while you work."

"You are no bother," he assured her, gesturing to the desk with a nod. "Go right ahead."

Christine smiled her thanks and quickly set to work. After composing her salutations she found she was a bit at a loss for words. What should she tell them? How detailed should she get about her mysterious husband or the secrets of Summercrest without revealing too much – something she was sure would displease Erik. Should she mention the fact that he wore a mask? It was not as if she could tell them why, for she still did not know herself. Perhaps now would be a good time to ask him about it, after all, he had just encouraged her to open up to him and she had revealed some very personal and painful details about _her_ life. Logic would dictate that he in turn would feel obligated to do the same…right?

She thought long and hard on the subject before continuing with her correspondence. In the end she decided to keep the letter light and simple, giving them a generalization of her new home, their lovely wedding and the assurance that her husband was not the nightmare that Sister Margret had feared. She wrote of the gardens, her new horse and how she hoped to soon fit in as the mistress of Summercrest. Christine ended the letter by sending her love and gratitude for all they had done for her, promising to write occasionally and update them on her life. As she lifted the paper to blow on the wet ink, she caught Erik's eyes on her. Looking up, she smiled inwardly as he jerked his attention back to his documents when he knew he had been spotted.

Erik had tried to concentrate on his work but he could not help watching her as she wrote. She was quite captivating, as well as entertaining. She scribbled a bit then stopped to muse, clicking the pen on the desk or biting it between her lips while deep in thought. He had never known the act of writing a letter could be so fascinating. When she had finished he could not take his eyes off how she pursed her delicate pink lips and blew ever so gently on the paper in order to help it dry. That was when she had caught him staring and he quickly turned away, realizing that he was fooling no one. Damn, this was not how it was meant to go. _She_ was supposed to be the one desiring _his_ company…not the other way around. Yet, he knew he desired more than just her company. _Oh yes, much more_.

Erik must have become lost in his own imagination for the next thing he knew she was once again standing before his desk, the letter folded neatly and ready to be placed in an envelope and addressed.

"When you are done, just leave it on the tray by the front door and Bower will see that it is posted," he told her, handing her a pristine envelope. He watched as she sat down in the chair in front of his desk and finished addressing it. When that was completed, she sat there holding it as she continued to watch him silently. After what seemed an eternity of her simply staring, Erik finally put his pen down and looked up at her, sitting back as he met her eyes. "Is there something on your mind?"

Christine all but jumped at his voice, having been so engrossed in watching his every move. Taking a deep breath and swallowing hard she pushed forth, asking the question that she had been dying to know.

"I was thinking…" she began, her mouth suddenly going dry. "I mean…I have noticed that you wear your mask all the time…even to bed…and I was wondering, well…why?" There she said it; the words were out and could not be taken back…no matter how much she now wished she could.

Erik had been expecting this, ever since he had laid eyes on her he knew this moment would come. Of course she would be curious, it was expected that she would want to know why he wore such an oddity. Yet he had dared to hope she might simply let him keep his secrets. As always, Erik was a fool and no stranger to disappointment.

"I suffered an…injury some time ago," he began, doing his best to remain vague. "My face took the brunt of it and I wear the mask to hide the hideous sight from those who would find it disturbing to look at. I have become used to the mask…in time you will as well." He finished his sentence with a note of finality, hoping that she would recognize that he did not wish to discuss it further. Unfortunately she did not take the hint.

"I am very sorry to hear that, Erik," she told him, her voice filled with genuine empathy.

"I do not want your pity, Christine," he interjected, his tone quickly becoming harsh and angry. "It is simply how things are, no sense in wishing it were otherwise. I have had more than my fill of platitudes and sympathetic looks, enough to last a life time. So I would appreciate it if you left it alone and did not speak of it further." He was doing his best to reign in his temper but the issue of his face was still a raw and open wound, one he feared he could never heal from.

"I just thought that…" she began.

"I said to leave it be!" he shouted, causing her to jump slightly, her eyes growing wide at his sudden outburst. Erik immediately regretted his harsh tone as he watched her pull away and lower her head, obviously doing her best not to cry in front of him. He felt like a heel, a true beast for his angry words but he was still too fired up to attempt a convincing apology. Hoping to explain his temper he stood and began to walk around his desk. "Christine, it is just that…" but he halted there when he saw her leap to her feet.

"I…I should go…I need to take this to Mr. Bower…before it gets too late," she stammered, backing up a few steps. She then gave a quick curtsy and all but fled out the door, pulling it shut behind her.

Erik was left in his study feeling angry and alone. _No surprise there_, he thought to himself, wasn't he always alone? Both Amir and Antoinette had warned him to hold his temper, to be kind, but no matter how hard he tried there were just certain subjects that seemed to set him off…his face being at the top of the list. How could he ever explain to her the shame and degradation that came attached to his appearance? How could he make her understand why he must wear a mask without telling her all his terrible secrets? He had come so far in the last few days, hoped so much, only to have it once more smashed beneath the boot of his foul temper. Sinking back down into his chair, Erik buried his head in his hands, wallowing in misery and self-pity.

The sun had already set, but Erik never rose from his chair or bother lighting any of the oil lamps in his office, preferring to remain in the dark with his equally dark thoughts. It was not until the door creaked open, casting a warm glow from the hallway that he even realized how late it had become.

"Master Erik?" a small voice called from the doorway. "Are you in here?"

"Yes Meg, I am here," he said with a heavy sigh.

"When you did not show up for dinner, Mother told me to find you and let you know that it is ready to be served," she shifted nervously from one foot to the next. "Will…will you be attending or should I have Bridget bring your dinner in here?"

Erik thought about telling the young girl to just go away and let him starve…it was no less than he deserved. Yet he wondered if Christine was already there, waiting for him to arrive. The opportunity to see her and apologize was motivation enough to cause him to rise from his chair.

"I am coming," he assured her. "Has Lady Christine come down for dinner yet?" He truly hoped the answer was yes.

"I have not yet informed her that it was ready, I was going there now," Meg told him.

"Good," Erik nodded, at least she had not yet said no. "Please inform her that I am anxious to speak with her at dinner," he added, hoping that this might sway her to come down after his abysmal behavior.

"Yes, sir," Meg said, giving a respectful bob as she left.

Erik took a few minutes to gather his wits, smooth down his hair and re-don his jacket. Normally he would have long since gone up and dressed in more fitting attire for dinner, but he dared not for fear of intruding on Christine's privacy. He would simply have to go with what he had on.

Still feeling uneasy he made his way to the dining hall and took his place at the head of the table, nervously sipping at his cup of tea that had already been served. It seemed like an eternity before the large doors creaked open and he saw Christine enter, her head still lowered so that he could not read her eyes or gauge her mood. To be honest, he had half expected it to be Meg, coming to tell him that his wife had refused to come down once again. He had not given much thought to what he might have done had that been the case but he was certain he would not have made a return trip to the tavern to drown his sorrows. He had learned his lesson about that the hard way.

"Good evening, Christine," he began, trying to sound as calm and inviting as possible.

"Good evening," she answered back, sounding polite and respectful, but he took note that she did not use his name.

Erik rose and pulled out her chair, waiting until she had been seated before returning to his own. He knew he had to be the one to begin the conversation, but he simply did not know how. He was tired of always feeling like the enemy, on the receiving end of a barrage of distrustful looks…although he knew he deserved every one.

"I…I was afraid you might have chosen to dine in our room tonight," he began. "Preferring to eat alone instead of with me."

"After the last time, I promised that I would try to be a respectful wife and not shame you in front of the staff," Christine explained looking up at him for the first time since she entered. "I intend to keep my word."

"Then you are a better person than I," Erik lamented, shutting his eyes with a sad shake of his head. "For I too made promises that night, stating that you should feel free to speak your mind with me without fear of reprisal. Yet the first time you ask a simple question, I all but bite your head off."

"You…you did seem to overreact just a bit," she whispered, looking down at her hands which were laced in her lap. Even though she had tried to hide it, her tone betrayed her frustration with him.

"Yes I did," he agreed, a slight smile touching his lips at her accusing words. He was pleased to see that his little innocent daisy still had some fire in her. "It is just that…my mask is not something I am comfortable discussing…with anyone. Perhaps one day I might find the courage to share it with you, but for now…for now can you please allow me to keep it to myself?"

Christine looked up at him, his tone had been almost pleading and his eyes betrayed a vulnerability she had not seen in him before. She could tell that this was a subject that affected him deeply and while her mind screamed for answers, her heart softened in leniency.

"Of course I can," she said, reaching out her hand and placing it over his as it rested on the table. She took it as a good sign that he did not pull away, instead he simply stared down at her gesture in surprise. "I am sorry for making you feel uncomfortable by asking. I only wished to know more about you. We are, after all, married and I know so little about your life, your past or your family."

"One would think after meeting my father you would not wish to know more about my relitives," he scoffed, his face hardening at the mention of Cedric Morant.

"Then instead, tell me about your mother," she encouraged, not wishing to even think of her deplorable father-in-law. She was pleased when her suggestion seemed to cause his expression to soften, bringing a wistful smile to his lips.

"My mother…was an amazing woman," he told her slowly. "You would have liked her and I am certain she would have admired you a great deal."

"What was her name?" Christine probed, leaning in a bit as she drank in the information Erik now seemed to be offering freely.

"Lillian," he answered. "Lillian Morant. She was born in France but came to Summercrest when she was a young bride of nineteen. She was a true lady and won the love and respect of all who knew her. I think my father was even nicer when she was alive, if that can be believed. However, she died when I was eleven and after that our family fell apart."

"I am very sorry," she said, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "I can tell you miss her very much."

"I do. But no more so than you must grieve for the loss of your own parents, Christine." He picked up her hand and cradled it between both of his, bringing it up to his lips momentarily to offer it a chaste kiss. "We have both had those we loved taken from us early in our lives. It is a pain that can never be erased. But perhaps we can find a way to comfort one another and ease our mutual suffering." He continued to rub his thumb over the back of her knuckles as he stared at it in silence. Finally he looked up and spoke again. "I _want_ to confide in you Christine, truly I do…I have just spent a lifetime building up walls designed to protect me. It would be impossible to tear them down in such a short time."

"I understand Erik, truly I do," she assured him. "Yet if I am to be your wife, to support you and offer comfort when needed, I too must know what it is _you_ fear." She was using his own words on him and she could tell he knew it. Still, Christine could not go on much longer being kept in the dark.

Erik nodded solemnly, wondering just how long he could hold back before she gave up on him completely. Perhaps after he had gained her trust, then he could work on showing some back. Yes, he would tell her everything, but not before he knew she would not run from him once she learned the truth…if that was even possible.

"I will work on it, Christine," he replied quietly. "I promise I will try."

"That is all I ask," she smiled, feeling closer to him now that she ever had before. Out of the ashes of despair, hope had risen like a phoenix, giving her the encouragement she needed to forge ahead with optimism. Christine was beginning to learn that Erik's heart was just as lonely and wounded as her own and perhaps together they _could_ find a measure of comfort.

It was at that moment that Bridget came into the room, carrying a tray with their dinner, silencing any more talk between them, but it had been enough. They were back to feeling comfortable around each other and for Erik and Christine…that was saying a lot.

Dinner continued pleasantly, with small talk being shared and more questions about trivial matters filling in the expected silence. They stayed in the dining room long after the food was gone and their after dinner coffee had cooled, discussing whatever came to mind. Christine did not mind that it was nothing of great importance or any deep revelations, those she hoped would come in time. For now she was simply pleased to be conversing with the man she was coming to accept as her husband. Yes, Erik had frightened her on several occasions with his foul temper and secretive ways but his acts of kindness more than made up for these, making it possible to now see him in a different light.

When it was time to retire, he offered her his arm and she willingly took it, allowing him to escort her to their room without trepidation. Erik was nothing if not a gentleman and a man of his word. Christine had confidence that he would never cross that invisible line he had drawn for himself in the sand. For now he asked only for her company and that she stay at Summercrest, though she knew as a man he desired more. She wondered how long before she could feel comfortable enough to trust him with not only her heart, but the rest of her as well. The idea still frightened her, yet Christine found that the feelings he had invoked in the few times he had held her and kissed her frightened her even more…but in a good way.

When they arrived at their room, Erik took a few moments to stoke the fire before he excused himself to go into the washroom to prepare for bed. When he came back out he found Christine dressed for the night and sitting at her vanity table, brushing her hair as she hummed a quiet tune. He recalled how much he wished to hear her sing for him and made a mental note to make time for that in the very near future. She looked so lovely sitting there, staring out the window as she let the bristles make their way down her tresses as she smoothed out the days tangles. Suddenly an idea sprang to his mind.

Christine did not hear Erik exit the washroom and was a bit startled when she saw his reflection in the mirror approaching her from behind.

"May I?" he asked, reaching out to take the brush from her now stilled hand. That very morning he had taken time to brush the mane of the Arabian and she had seemed to enjoy it very much. Perhaps doing the same for his wife might invoke more trust between them…it certainly couldn't hurt.

Christine was nervous at first, this was another step towards the intimate relationship they were trying to forge and she wondered if things were moving too fast. After all they had only known each other for less than a week. Seven days ago she had never even heard of Erik Morant and now she was his wife …_and he was brushing her hair!_ What was even more amazing was that she liked it very much. His hands were gentle, reaching under to hold her hair out as he eased the brush downward, careful not to pull or let it snag. She closed her eyes and could almost catch a faded memory of her mother doing this for her as a child. Christine found it incredibly soothing. She must have let out some audible sign that she was enjoying his attentions, for when she opened her eyes she saw him smiling back at her through the mirror.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked, the hint of satisfaction evident in his voice.

"Yes…thank you," she said, a blush coming to her cheeks as she looked away in embarrassment.

"Then perhaps I must do this for you every night, my wife," he suggested, his tone now turning more seductive. He then leaned forward, reaching his arm around her as he picked up the pink ribbon that was lying on the dressing table in front of her. As he did, she felt the heat of his breath close to her ear and a shiver of excitement ran up her spine, making her gasp slightly. He obviously heard her for his smile grew even wider, pleased that his nearness could have such an effect on her. Pulling her hair together loosely, Erik tied the ribbon around it to keep it from becoming entangled in the night. As he did he could not help but imagine the day when he would be allowed to freely run his fingers through her tresses and not simply while brushing it. But no…he would have to wait. "There we go, all ready for bed now," he told her in a satisfied voice, obviously proud of his handiwork. He then reached out and helped her to her feet. "Shall we retire?"

"Yes…of course," she agreed, her heart still racing from his nearness and gentle caresses. What was this feeling he so skillfully brought out of her? She blushed once again to think of what it truly might be.

Erik left her and made his way around the room dousing the lights before heading to his side of the bed and slipping inside. Christine did the same and as they had the previous nights before, they both remained on their own sides of the bed…not touching. Erik leaned over and blew out the last remaining candle, bathing the room in moonlight alone. Erik laid there in the dark, his hands folded behind his head as he contemplated the day's events. He was ashamed of his actions in his study but chose to focus on the achievements of the day instead. Christine was beginning to show signs of trusting him – _God only knew why_ – but there was most definitely something there.

Unexpectedly the bed moved and he felt Christine roll over from her position facing the window. What happened next was quick, and so light that he almost did not believe it happened at all. But suddenly he felt her lean up on one elbow and give him a kiss on his exposed lips. It was not meant to entice...but instead held a measure of affection. A kiss that told Erik they had indeed made great strides in their relationship that day. A kiss he would cherish.

"Good night, Erik," Christine whispered, quickly turning back on her side away from him.

"Good night, Christine," he answered back, the smile never leaving his face even after he fell asleep.

.

.

**Look, progress! And I bet you thought Erik would end up at the bar again and Christine in tears. Ha ha Nope...they worked it out. Good for them. Now...how about we solve a few of the mysteries in the next chapter at two? Yes?**


	15. Chapter 15

.

Mystery solving time...well some of it at least. Hope you enjoy. And it is a nice LONG one again!

.

**Chapter 15**

.

.

Christine woke to the sound of Meg bustling around, pulling back the curtains and selecting a dress for her to wear that day. She sat up and looked around the room, disappointed that Erik was nowhere to be seen. He must have slipped out early without waking her and she felt a sense of loss at his absence. Then recalling what transpired the previous night Christine's fingers drifted to her lips while her mind spun back to the light kiss she had dared to give her husband in the dark. It had been an impulse, one she did not regret, yet one she worried about all the same. What had Erik thought about her actions, did he now think she was brazen? Or perhaps did he see it as a sign that she was one step closer to the point where she would own up to her obligation of marital relations? _Was_ she truly warming up to the idea? When a secretive smile spread across her face…she thought perhaps she might.

"Master Erik had business to attend to again this morning," Meg informed her, obviously reading her mistresses mind as she watched her eyes scan the room. "He asked me to tell you that he would join you in the dining room for breakfast though."

Christine's smile grew even wider at the news, pleased that she would not be deprived of his company two mornings in a row. Eager to be in his presence once again she quickly jumped out of bed and with the help of Meg began dressing. It was once again a sunny spring day and she hoped that another training session with her horse would be on the schedule. Christine was learning so much from Erik on the care of horses that it had quickly become the highlight of her day. She could not wait for the time when she might actually be able to ride Angel and gallop alongside her husband as they rode throughout the grounds of Summercrest.

"The master is sending me into town today to fetch a few things for you, my lady," Meg told her as she put the finishing touches on her mistresses' hair. "He has ordered a riding outfit and several more dresses to be fashioned for you at the seamstress shop. I was instructed to see if there is anything else you might like me to pick up for you while I am there."

"Oh…" Christine began, taken back by Erik's thoughtful gesture. She already felt as if he had given her far too much and she hated to appear greedy by asking for more. However, Christine was aware that very soon she would be in need of a few items of the more personal and feminine nature. And giving such a list to Meg seemed much preferred to asking Erik. A blush came to her cheeks at the idea of discussing such an intimate subject as that with him - husband or not. No, she could hardly be touched or kissed by him without her mind and body becoming all a flutter, she couldn't imagine actually speaking with him about the delicate matters of her body's monthly cycle.

"Master Erik also suggested you might like me to choose some project from the store as well," Meg continued, unaware of what was going on in Christine's mind. "Something to keep you busy when he is otherwise occupied. He thought you might be a little bored of only reading by now."

"Well, while I do not think I will ever tire of reading, it would be nice to have something to busy my hands as an alternative," Christine agreed, giving it some thought. "Perhaps some needle point supplies? I learned quite a few intricate stitches at the abbey and would love to try embroidering a few things."

"An excellent idea," Meg complimented. "I have never tried it myself but it looks to be a beautiful pastime."

So after giving Meg her list of other essentials, Christine headed down to breakfast…and Erik. She found him already seated, sipping his tea while he scanned some papers in front of him. When she entered he looked up and smiled from behind his mask, his eyes showing his pleasure at seeing her. He stood and pulled out her chair as he always did, still the perfect gentleman.

"Did your mother teach you that?" she asked, smiling back at him as he sat back down.

"She did her best to instill certain qualities in me," he chuckled. "However, not many eleven year olds care much about etiquette and table manners. She did however insist that I learn French, her native tongue and that I seemed to take to like a duck to water. I was speaking both French and English fluently by the age of six and continued to practice it enough throughout my life to have retained it quite well."

"Please say something in French for me," Christine begged, always having loved to hear that romantic language spoken.

Erik thought for a moment and then lifting her hand to his lips he kissed it gently.

"J'ai adoré que tu m'aie baisée bonsoir," he whispered, his voice so low and husky that it made Christine's stomach do flip flops.

"What…what did you say?" she asked, loving the way the foreign words seemed to roll off his tongue in such a seductive manner.

Erik hesitated for a moment, having not given any thought to having to translate his words before he said them. While he had said that he adored the way she had kissed him goodnight, he was not sure how she would react to his confession. It could easily embarrass her and lead to her feeling uncomfortable around him and he certainly did not wish to start the day off in that manner. So clearing his throat and laying her hand back down on the table, he chose the safer course.

"I asked if you gave Meg a list of items you needed from town," he lied.

Christine had never learned French but there had been a girl at the school for a few years who spoke it fluently. In that time she had been able to pick up a few words and phrases and she was almost sure that Erik had said nothing about Meg or any trip to town. In fact she was more convinced that he had been speaking about the kiss she had given him the previous night…but she could not be certain of that either. However, she was grateful for the out he had given with his obviously untruthful explanation…and she took it.

"Oh, yes I did, thank you," she said, contributing his obvious shift in mood to his attempt to cover up his slip of the tongue. "Is the town very far from here?" she asked, in an attempt to keep the pleasant conversation going.

"A few miles, but not long by carriage," Erik informed her. "Meg should be back before lunchtime, unless she lingers at each shop or stops to flirt with a few of the young men, as she has been known to," he chuckled, obviously well aware of Miss Giry's habits while in town.

"Oh really?" Christine replied, her eyebrow lifting at the idea of her lady's maid having a beau…or two. "Perhaps next time I will have to accompany her, to act as chaperone." This caused both of them to laugh, as if they were cohorts in some shared secret. To Christine it felt very nice.

The rest of breakfast went well and they discussed the progress with Christine's horse as well as what Erik had planned for today's lesson. Just before they got up from the table to head outside, Madam Giry entered with a small wicker basket and handed it to Erik with a smile.

"What is this?" Christine asked, unable to see its contents due to the folded over cloth that hid everything from view.

"You will see, my inquisitive little daisy," he chuckled, as he came around and assisted her to rise from her chair.

"Is it a picnic lunch?" Christine persisted, never having been one to give up easily.

"No, it is not. However, a picnic does have a very pleasing ring to it," he added thoughtfully, turning to Madam Giry with a wide smile. "In fact, Antoinette, please see to it that a basket lunch is made up and brought out to the stables this afternoon. Today, Christine and I shall dine alfresco."

"Very good, Master Erik," the housekeeper said with a pleased look, before leaving to inform the cook of his wishes.

"Shall we then?" he asked, offering her his arm.

"Yes, we shall," she agreed as they headed out of the dining room and towards the stables.

Christine watched carefully as Erik demonstrated the day's lesson, eager to implement it herself. At first, he went over the previous training, reacquainting the mare with the feel of their touch – brushing and petting her - then he would walk away again, allowing her to choose to follow and reestablish the attention. Once he was pleased with the review, Erik began his new tactic, the reward method. He did this by giving the horse a treat for any and all desired behavior. Each appropriate action was rewarded by a delicious piece of apple that had been hidden in the basket Madam Giry had provided. After the first few pieces, Angel caught on quickly and was quite eager to perform any task that would win her another treat.

"I would like to see if we can acquaint her with the sound of her new name today," Erik explained as he handed her the basket of treasured apples. "She has only known her Persian name till now and she will need to learn to come to the nickname you have chosen for her."

"How do we do that?" Christine asked curiously.

"I will go stand over at the far end of the corral and call her to me by the name Angel," he said, reaching into the basket and taking out a handful of the apple pieces. "Once she responds I want you to then do the same from here. Each time she comes when called, give her a reward. Soon she will associate coming to the sound of her name with a positive action."

"What a wonderful idea!" Christine grinned, anxious to begin. "May I go first?"

"Be my guest," Erik laughed, heading to the far end of the arena. He watched as Christine called to the mare while holding out the juicy treat. It did not take long before the horse caught on to their little game and was only too happy to comply to their calls. Crossing from one side of the paddock to the other, receiving a piece of apple each time for her troubles. When the fruit was all gone they spent the rest of the session just praising the horse by name and spending time with her. Erik felt that things were progressing very nicely with the Arabian and he could only hope that his plans to implement this tactic with Christine later would have equal success.

They had been having such a good time they had not realized how late it had become until Madam Giry arrived with the picnic basket Erik had requested. So after one final pet, they let Peter take Angel out to graze in the pasture as they made their way over to the gardens. Erik chose a nice spot under a large oak tree, far enough away from the walled in garden he wished to keep Christine clear of. After spreading out the blanket Antoinette had been thoughtful enough to inclue, they sat down and began to unpack the food.

"How long do you think it will be before I can ride her?" Christine asked, taking a bite of the chicken salad sandwich that had been provided.

"She has to learn to accept a saddle and bridle first," Erik explained, taking a bite of cheese. "It will take more time and I would not recommend you try riding side saddle until you are both very familiar with each other. I made sure to request that the dress makers include an outfit that will allow you to ride astride."

Their conversation continued on in a pleasant manner until the basket was empty and their stomachs were full, leaving them to pick up the empty dishes as they prepared to go inside.

"Do you happen to play chess, Christine?" Erik asked as they walked towards the house.

"I know how to play but I fear I am in no way proficient at the game," she confessed.

"Then if you will allow me, I would enjoy spending the afternoon teaching you a few strategies that you might find helpful, ma petite marguerite," Erik offered.

"Ma petite marguerite? What does that mean?" Christine asked, confused by his laps into French.

"It means my little daisy," Erik laughed, amused by her perplexed look.

"Daisy…you called me that earlier as well," she mused before her eyes lit up with understanding. "Is it because of the flowers I had in my hair the other day? The ones that were left at my door?"

"Perhaps that is what put the idea in my head," he confessed. "But in the language of flowers, daisies mean innocence, and that is what you are…my innocent little bride."

Christine found that his explanation not only pleased her, but made her blush as well.

"I often wish I was not so naive when it came to the ways of the world though," she told him. "I feel as if I have missed so much being stuck away in the abbey for most of my life."

"You were sheltered and protected there and I, for one, am grateful of that," Erik said, halting their pace as he turned to look at her, placing the back of his fingers against her cheek as he looked into her eyes. "This world is full of cruel and vicious people and knowing that you were walled off from all of that for as long as possible, makes me very glad indeed."

"But now I have you to protect me," Christine said with a smile, recalling his words from the other night.

"Yes and I take my duty in that respect very seriously," Erik nodded. "You shall always be safe here at Summercrest."

"Yet I fear that promise does not apply should I ever be pitted against you in the battle of chess," she laughed, her playful spirit bringing levity to the conversation.

"You assume correctly," Erik agreed, a devilish smile crossing his lips. "I am very competitive at this game and a bit embarrassed to admit, quite eager to vanquish you as an opponent."

"I do hope I can be of some challenge to you then," she giggled as he took her hand and the two continued their way inside the back patio doors. "It is certainly not in my nature to give up without a fight."

"I am counting on that, Christine," he said, his voice losing all hint of humor and suddenly replaced with a tone of seduction.

Christine felt her breath catch in her throat but was spared having to vocalize anything when Mr. Bower approached them.

"Master Erik, you have a guest waiting for you in the first sitting room," he informed him with a slight bow.

"A guest?" Erik repeated, sounding both confused and suspicious. "I was not expecting anyone today. Who is it?"

"It is Mr. Calloway, your solicitor, sir," the elderly butler continued.

"That is odd, he said he would not be stopping by till later this week," Erik looked from Mr. Bower back to Christine with an expression of disappointment. "I am afraid we will have to postpone our chess match until later."

"While I am grieved to hear it, I do understand," she assured him, reaching out to take the basket and blanket from his hand. "I will return this to the kitchen and see you later when you are finished."

"I will look for you in the library," he nodded, taking her free hand and raising it to his lips in parting. "Have a good afternoon, ma petite marguerite." Then with one last look he turned and followed his manservant towards the sitting room.

"Oh, I almost forgot, sir," Mr. Bower interrupted, reaching for a package that was sitting on one of the hall tables and handing it to Erik. "Miss Giry asked me to see that you got this. She said you ordered it from town."

"Ah, yes!" Erik said, his smile growing wide with excitement. He had planned this earlier in anticipation of his training session with the horse and he was anxious to put it into play. He turned back around just in time to see Christine opening the door that led to the kitchen. "Christine!" he called, as she turned to look at him. "Could you please come here, my little daisy?"

Curious as to what he wanted, she set the items in her hand on the floor and headed back to where he stood.

"Yes?" she responded.

"I got you something," he explained, eagerly holding the box out to her as a reward. "Something I think you will enjoy."

Christine eyed the box and then her secretive husband, before she reached out and took it from him. Anxiously she pulled the top off the decorative box, revealing a layer of delicious looking chocolate candies.

"Oh Erik," she gasped. "You shouldn't have."

"And why not?" he asked, sounding a bit hurt. "You are my wife and it is my right as your husband to be able to treat you to a gift whenever I so please, is it not?"

"Yes of course," Christine quickly assured him, more than happy to allow him to do so. "It is just that you do spoil me…and now I am afraid you might have just spoiled my dinner as well," she laughed, eager to taste one of the decadent confections.

"Then spoiled it shall be and more the better for it," he said, tipping her chin up with his index finger as he gave her a parting wink. "Just see that you save at least one piece for me, for I will claim that as my spoils of victory when I beat you in our game of chess later," he warned as he once more headed down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

.

Erik was still smiling when he entered the sitting room that was connected to his study and found Blake Calloway there waiting for him.

"Blake, this is an unexpected surprise," Erik greeted as the pleasant faced, blond haired man rose from his chair to shake his hand. "At my wedding reception you said that you would not be back in the area till Friday at the earliest."

"I know, but I was forced to make an unexpected journey just north of here and thought I would stop in on the off-chance you could meet with me today," the man explained as Erik walked to the liquor cabinet and poured them both small glasses of single malt whiskey. "You seemed very keen on me looking into your situation and I thought it best not to keep you in suspense."

"I hope it is good news you come with then, old friend," Erik said, offering him the glass as they both sat down in facing chairs by the fireplace.

"Some is good, while the other is a bit disappointing," Calloway confessed, setting his drink aside as he took some papers out of his bag. "According to the documents your father signed, you _will_ stand to inherit Summercrest and his title just as he promised, however…"

"I do not like the sound of that, Blake," Erik murmured, leaning in as he waited for his lawyer to continue.

"Like I was saying, the stipulation is that you must produce a legitimate heir before you can claim the title of Lord and ownership of Summercrest," he finished.

"I have married the girl of his choosing in order to do just that, is that not enough for the man? Does he require that I open my veins and give him my blood as well?" Erik grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"You may have proven intent but the contract demands that an heir be born and legally recognized before the mansion is officially passed to you." Blake said with a sad shake of his head. "Not to sound crass, Erik, but to get the deed, you must literally _do_ the deed."

Despite the implications of what he said, Erik could not help but chuckle at his friend's play on words.

"Yes, my father is nothing if not thorough," he sadly admitted. "I had hoped signing my name to the marriage certificate might have been enough."

"The good news is that there is no way your father can get out of the contract should you indeed produce an heir. Since nowhere does it stipulate that the child must be male, he cannot default on a technicality," Blake pointed out. "Thus any child you produce, be it a boy or a girl, will win you the title and the estate…lock, stock and barrel."

"Well I suppose that is good news," Erik nodded. "However, I would appreciate it if you did not mention this particular conversation to my wife. I have yet to broach the subject of the contract with her and while it is the farthest thing from the truth, I would hate for her to assume this was the only reason I married her."

"No, that would not be a wise revelation. But tell me, how _are_ things going with your new bride?" he asked, a bit surprised by the smile that sprang to Erik's lips at the question. "Ahh, I take it that married life is not as disagreeable as you once thought?"

"I would say that it certainly has its advantages," Erik chuckled.

"I must admit that I was quite shocked to suddenly receive an invitation to your wedding, Erik," Blake continued. "Especially after hearing you rail so long against your father's insistence that you take a wife. However, once I got a look at the lovely girl I saw at your side the night of your party, I can see why you relented."

"If it were just her looks alone that tempted me, I would have still refused to wed her…but there is so much more to her than just her beauty," Erik assured him, getting a far off look in his eyes. "She has a rare quality about her that simply cannot be explained, one that draws you in, like a moth to a flame."

"Well then, as a happily married man myself, perhaps I should not ask you to introduce her to me after all," Blake laughed.

"And as an equally pleased husband, I find I am reluctant to let _any _man near her," Erik replied in return. Though he had said the words in jest, he wondered just how true they really were. "However, as long as we are on the subject of my wife, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"I will certainly try," Blake assured him, holding out his glass in hopes that Erik might refill it once more.

"I would like you to do some digging around and find out all you can about a murder that took place a little over nine years ago," Erik asked as he poured Blake another drink and the two of them settled down to discuss it further, allowing the sun to sink behind the hill as evening approached.

.

.

Meanwhile Christine had returned the basket, thanking the cook for the lovely lunch before retiring to the library to wait for Erik and his promised game of chess. To pass the time she chose a book and settled herself in her favorite spot on the settee next to the fireplace. Opening the box of chocolates Erik had given her, she closed her eyes and let out a sigh of pleasure as she bit into the sweet morsel, savoring every mouthwatering bite. If Erik had believed this would be a fine treat for her, he had been quite correct.

She had just taken a bite out of her second piece when it suddenly hit her and the shock of her revelation almost caused her to drop the chocolate from her hand. Could it be? Were all the strategies she had witnessed Erik employ on her horse now being tried on her? Sitting up straight she let her mind spin back to the first day when Amir had brought the mare to Summercrest. Up until then she could not recall Erik ever having touched her unless there was a specific reason…or he was drunk. Yet that night he had offered her his arm, touched her back and hand on many occasions, as well as helped her out of her clothes before bed. Then after seeing if the horse would freely seek out their attention, Erik had left her twice, once in the garden and then again after lunch…and just like the mare she had indeed sought out his company. Now today, with the way he had used a nick name for her, ma petite marguerite, and then given her the chocolates as a treat…it was perfectly clear to her exactly what he was doing.

Christine looked down at the chocolate in her hand and burst out laughing. She was not entirely sure why, but to her, the whole thing was completely hysterical. For days she had marveled at Erik's ability to coax the Arabian into trusting him, to come when he beckoned her with the promise of affection and rewards. Now realize that _she_ had fallen so easily for the same tricks made her laugh even harder.

"Well, at least you got more than an apple out of the deal," she chuckled to herself as she popped the rest of the candy in her mouth. As she chewed she contemplated what to do with this new found knowledge. Should she confront him and call him on it, or instead keep this to herself and thus have the inside track on what tactic he might play on her next. She also wondered if she should be upset with him for treating her the same as he would a horse! But she just couldn't find it in her heart to be angry. He had in truth done nothing wrong, nothing immoral or disrespectful, he simply employed a tried and true technique. And the bottom line was…it was working!

_I do trust him_ _more than I did at first_, she thought to herself. Erik Morant had done more for her, treated her more fairly and shown her more respect than anyone had in the last nine years…and for that she did trust him. Perhaps it was time to trust him enough to take the next step in making theirs a true marriage.

So picking up another piece of chocolate, Christine stared into the fireplace at the dancing flames as she decided what to do next.

.

.

Erik and Blake Calloway had just finished with their business and were heading out of the sitting room when Madam Giry came rushing up, her face creased with worry.

"Master Erik," she began, eyeing the lawyer as she did her best to hide her agitation. "If you are finished with your guest I have need of your assistance in a very important matter."

"Is it something that can wait?" Erik asked, trying to gage the seriousness of her request. For the only thing on his mind now was a spirited game of chess and the possibility of tasting the remnants of imported Swiss chocolate on his lovely wife's lips.

"I am afraid _it_ cannot," she assured him, stamping the cane she carried with her on the floor crossly, giving him a look that told him it could only be one of two things.

"Well, Erik," Blake said, slapping him on the back. "It would appear that official introductions to your wife will have to wait after all. I should be getting home myself, but I will be back in a couple of weeks. Hopefully with some information on that matter you wished me to inquire about."

"Very good Blake, I look forward to your report," Erik nodded, walking him to the door and bidding him farewell. Once the door was shut he turned to Antoinette with concern in his eyes. "What has happened?"

.

.

Christine had long since given up any hope of coming to a conclusion about what to do, so she had instead immersed herself in the book she picked out and continued to sample the chocolates. Without taking her eyes off the page she was reading she reached for another candy out of the box on the table next to her, only to find that it took longer for her fingers to make contact with what she sought. Glancing over she was surprised to see that more of the chocolates seemed to be missing than she had thought she ate. She had been distracted by her book and could have easily lost count of how many she had already taken, but it still surprised her to see that many gone. She didn't feel that full but the candy was missing regardless of how her stomach felt. Oh well, as long as she saved at least one piece for Erik she supposed it didn't matter. They were her chocolates after all and she had every right to eat them if she wished. So making a mental note to only eat five of the six remaining pieces she went back to reading her book.

A few minutes later she turned to take another piece only to find three remained! Christine's eyes grew wide as she suddenly realized that she was not the only one sampling her candy. At first she was a bit frightened, wondering if she might be in some kind of danger. Yet if whoever it was taking the chocolate wanted to hurt her, they would have done that already. Should she call for help, alert the staff or sit there and see if she could solve the mystery herself. However, before she could make up her mind, she noticed the large silver vase sitting on the coffee table in front of her reflected not only herself, but the table where the candy was sitting as well. Perhaps she could try the very same technique Erik had confessed to using when he was able to spot her hiding behind the lounge that first night. So pretending to read once more she kept her head down but her eyes trained on the vase, waiting to see who or what might be taking the chocolates.

She did not have to wait long, for very soon a small hand came creeping up over the table, snitching a chocolate and then disappearing behind the settee. So…there is a thief at Summercrest and the bandit appeared to be quite young. Could the owner of that hand be the one who left her the daisies and the source of the childlike giggles she had heard in the hallway? Christine was now even more determined to find out. So getting into position, she prepared herself for attack.

When the small hand was once more seen in the reflection created by the vase, she sprang into action, twisting around and grabbing the little arm before it could disappear. Christine pulled firmly, but gently, and the little body of a child came into view as she brought him around the table for inspection. At first she was just as stunned as the boy who stood in front of her. The lad looked to be around three or four years old with dark hair and the most adorable face she had ever seen. He was dressed in rather stylish clothes and appeared to be clean and well cared for. But it was his eyes, those wide saucer shaped orbs filled with fear, that had caused Christine's mouth to drop open in shock. They were identical to Erik's eyes…_the same disarming shade of gold_.

Yet before either she or the boy could utter a word, there came a cry of distress from behind the settee and Christine watched as a second child came running into view. This time it was a little girl with the same dark hair set in a braid down her back and wearing a frilly pink dress. She too looked to be about the same age as the boy and upon seeing them both side by side, she could easily tell they were siblings, most likely twins, for they both shared the same golden eyes of her husband. The little girl quickly grabbed hold of the boy's other arm, frantically trying to pull him back out of Christine's hold.

"Let my brother go!" the little girl shouted, her eyes filling with tears as she tugged on him desperately. "We're sorry we took your candy, please don't hurt him!"

"I am not going to hurt anyone," Christine hurriedly explained, yet she refused to release the boy for fear they would both disappear before she got any answers. "I am not angry that you took the chocolates, I just wanted to know who was doing it."

"You…you are not going to punish us?" the little boy stammered, his face looking hopeful.

"Of course not," Christine smiled, watching as they both seemed to relax a bit. "In fact I should be thanking you for helping me eat them. After all, had I done so all by myself, I would have undoubtedly developed a dreadful stomach ache." Now that the children seemed less afraid and more curious, Christine bravely let go of the boy's arm, still praying that they would not turn and run. "My name is Christine, may I ask who you are?"

The little boy looked at his sister as they seemed to silently communicate between each other before turning his attention back to Christine.

"My name is Robert and this is my sister Amy," he told her, still a bit hesitant but at least they did not bolt.

"Well Robert and Amy, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," she told them with a smile. "Am I correct in assuming that you two are the ones who left the lovely flowers at my door the other day?"

"Did you like them?" Amy asked eagerly, taking a step forward. "It was all my idea to leave them, Robert said they were silly."

"I did not!" Robert argued, giving his sister an angry look. "I said _you_ were silly, not the flowers."

"Well whosever idea it was, I did enjoy them very much, thank you _both_ for your thoughtfulness," she told them, trying to reestablish the peace between them. As she looked at them more she did her best to try and decide just how they were related to Erik, for with the same set of eyes as him, they had to be. Were they his younger brother and sister perhaps? "Why is it that in all the time I have been here I have not seen you two? Do you live here at Summercrest or are you only visiting for the day?"

"No, we live here," Robert said proudly. "Our rooms are out there at the end of the hall." He pointed towards the left, telling Christine that he meant the east wing.

"Oh!" she gasped, for suddenly things began to make sense. Were _they_ the reason Erik had forbid her to enter that part of the house? If so…why? "And if you two live here, where are your mother and father?"

"We don't have a mother," Robert told her, his voice sounding a bit sad and hurt.

"We do too!" Amy argued, slapping his arm as if to scold him for lying. She then turned to Christine and continued with her head held high. "Our papa says our mother loves us very much, and even though she wants to, she can't be with us right now. That is why we have Rose, she takes care of us just like our mother would."

"Rose?" Once again Christine was dumbfounded by the children's words. So there _was_ a Rose in the house and she took care of the children.

"Yes, she was supposed to be watching us now but she fell asleep and we snuck out to play," Robert said, sounding as if he were proud of their little escape attempt.

"We can be very quiet when we want to be," Amy added. "When we saw you in here we wanted to come see you for ourselves. Rose told us you were very pretty and she was right."

"Well, thank you very much," Christine blushed, touched by the little girl's compliment.

"Is it true that you married our papa like Rose said?" Robert asked.

"Did I marry…your papa?" This time it was Christine's turn to stammer, the little boy's question almost causing her to choke on her own breath. "Who exactly is your father?"

"He is the man who lives here…he owns the house," Amy told her, doing her best to explain something that she seemed to think Christine should already know.

"Erik Morant is your…_father_?" Christine was stunned. She had suspected that the kids were related to him but it had not occurred to her that they were _his_ children. Her head was now spinning. They were _his_…his flesh and blood, the eyes did not lie even if the children did. But how…with who…this was all too much. Christine's hand went to her head as she took several deep breaths…her face turning pale as the blood drained from her cheeks.

"Are you all right?" Robert asked her, taking a step forward and putting his hand on her arm in concern. "You look like you are going to be sick."

"Did you eat too much chocolate?" Amy asked.

"No…I am fine," Christine tried to assure them but to be honest she was not completely convinced herself. "Are you _sure_ that Erik Morant is your father?" she questioned again, just to make certain she had heard correctly.

Both children nodded, their little heads bobbing up and down as they stared at her with worried expressions.

"So did you?" Robert asked after a few moments of silence.

"Did I what?" Christine found she was a bit lost in the conversation.

"Did you really marry our father?" Robert repeated. "And if so…does that make you our new mother?"

"Yes…are you our mother now?" Amy asked, her eyes lighting up with hope.

"I…I suppose I would be," she confessed, still trying her best to wrap her mind around the idea that Erik had failed to mention he had two very adorable children. Children he had purposefully hidden from her and refused to tell her about even when she had asked him point blank about the possibility of there being little ones in the house. Why had he lied to her? After all the progress she felt they had made…why would he not have told her something this significant? And if he did indeed already have a son and daughter, why on earth would he have needed to marry _her_ to produce an heir like his father insisted? So many questions were running around in her mind she couldn't think straight.

"We asked Papa why you don't come eat breakfast with us like he does sometimes and he said you were too busy," Robert told her. "Will you come see us now…or are you still busy?"

From his tone of voice Christine could tell that the little boy was hurt by the idea that she might not want to visit them. Their little faces, looking up at her with such hope in their eyes, nearly broke her heart. It no longer mattered to her if Erik had lied or what his reasons were for keeping them hidden from her. She was not about to punish these little dears for the sins of their father. Regardless of whether Erik wanted them to be a part of her life or not, she knew that they would be from that moment on. She also knew it would take very little for her to welcome them both into her heart. For they, just like her, desperately needed to feel loved and cared for. Even if Erik was their father, they obviously needed a mother as well.

"Of course I will come and visit you, now that I know where to find you," she explained. "But I would also hope that you might come and visit with me as well."

"Oh no, we are not supposed to be out in the main part of the house like this," Amy said, shaking her head. "If Papa or Madam Giry finds us out here, we will get punished."

"Punished?" Christine gasped. "Just for leaving your rooms?"

"Yes, Madam Giry or Rose will give us a stern talking to and sometimes they will even make us go to bed without dessert," Robert added, his tone revealing that the last reproof was next to death in their young eyes.

"Well, we can't have that, now can we?" Christine said, trying her best not to smile at the children's dramatics.

"So you won't tell on us then?" Amy asked hopefully.

"I will not say a word, it will be our little secret," she promised, giving them a wink that made them both smile.

Unfortunately those smiles were short-lived, for at that very moment the door to the library burst open and in walked a frantic looking Erik. His golden eyes swiftly scanned the room until they came to rest on Christine…and the two children.

.

.

Oh no...some one is in deep dodo and I think his name is Erik! He will have to do some big time explaining come Thursday that is for sure! So...what did you think?


	16. Chapter 16

.

I am posting early because due to a delayed flight I missed my next connection and ended up in a hotel overnight with an EARLYflight out the following day. So my post would be very late if I waited till I got home. So good for you but icky for me.

I hope to be back answering reviews in full force by the next chapter. Thanks again for all of them! They make me happy!

Ok now let's see how Erik digs his way out of THIS one and how Christine will react!

.

**Chapter 16**

.

.

Erik, Antoinette and Rose had all been searching through the mansion for the past half an hour, desperate to find the children before someone else did. Yet now as he stood there staring at the look of betrayal in Christine's eyes, Erik knew it was too late. _Damn_…this did not bode well.

Giving a sigh of resignation Erik stepped backwards until he was able to lean out of the doorway and yell down the hall.

"Antoinette…Rose…I found them," he called, his voice betraying his relief as well as a hint of displeasure.

Christine slowly rose to her feet at his declaration. Rose? Was she finally going to meet this mysterious woman who the children claim was their caretaker? Would she be as beautiful as she had imagined? Was she truly the vision of loveliness that could steal her husband's attentions from her?

"Uh oh," Robert whispered, stepping to the right so that most of him was hidden behind Christine's skirt.

"Now we're in trouble," Amy said, her little voice quivering as she too took refuge behind their new found ally.

Christine remained rooted in place, simply staring at the man she thought she had come to know over the last few days. Yet all that had changed with the utterance of one word…_father_. How could Erik have married her without telling her that he had children…two children! She suddenly felt betrayed, lied to and utterly foolish.

"What are you two doing out here?" Erik asked, having stepped back inside the room, his arms now crossed over his chest as he stared down at the two identical pairs of eyes peeking out from behind Christine's skirt. "When Rose woke and found you missing she was in near hysterics. That was very unkind of you two to disappear like that."

"We're sorry, Papa," Robert said, linking his hands behind his back and hanging his head as he stepped out in plain sight, willing to take his medicine.

"Are you terribly angry with us?" Amy asked, her little eyes now brimming with unshed tears at the idea.

Erik stood there and continued to glare at them for a moment longer but soon their repentant little faces melted his heart and he suddenly went down on one knee.

"What do you think?" he asked with a resigned sigh, unfolding his arms as he held them wide open in front of him.

Both children gave a squeal of glee and ran forward as he enveloped them both in a warm hug, kissing their cheeks as they laughed and embraced him back.

Christine let out a pent up breath she had not realized she had been holding. It had all happened so fast that she didn't know what to think. Seeing Erik interacting with his children and showing them affection, was quite a shock.

"I am not upset with you," he assured them, as he pulled them back to look at their smiling little faces. "But you owe both Rose and Madam Giry an apology for frightening them like you did, do you understand?"

"Yes, Papa," Robert nodded, looking duly contrite.

"If we say we are sorry, will Rose still take away our dessert tonight?" Amy asked, her little eyes looking at Erik pleadingly.

"I think we can forgo any form of punishment this time," he told her, giving her a wink and a smile. "But next time you two disobey Rose like this, I will personally see that no sweets touch your lips for a week." Erik seemed satisfied when his threat appeared to have put the fear of God in the two and they nodded their understanding wordlessly. "Now what on earth made you decide to disappear like that in the first place?"

"We had nothing to do," Robert lamented. "Rose fell asleep and there was no one to play with us."

"So we went exploring and found her," Amy told him, turning in his arms as she pointed at Christine, a wide smile coming to her lips. "She is just as pretty as Rose said she was."

"Yes…yes she is," Erik agreed, his eyes straying to his silent wife. He knew he needed to say something, anything to break the tension but he did not know what. He was given a reprieve by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall and stopping in the library door.

"Robert…Amy…thank heavens! Do you know how worried I was?"

At the sound of the voice, Christine pried her eyes away from Erik and let them land on the woman who now stood in the doorway. As Christine got a look at her would-be rival for the first time, her hand flew to her lips as she tried to stifle a giggle. Rose was at least seventy years old, if she was a day, and as round and plump as they come, making her the quintessential grandmother figure. All of Christine's previous anxiety over Rose being Erik's mistress faded away, leaving only relief.

"We're sorry, Rose," Amy said, wiggling down out of Erik's embrace and running to hug her around the legs. "We didn't mean to make you sad."

Robert did the same, joining his sister in an apologetic hug of his nanny.

"Yes, we are sorry, Rose," he chimed in, as he tipped his little head up to look at her. "But Papa promised we could still have dessert tonight," he added.

"Oh he did, did he?" Rose laughed, unable to hold in her mirth as she ruffled his hair with her wrinkled hand. "Well if your father says you can have a piece of cake tonight, who am I to argue. But if you two want any dessert you first need to get washed up and eat your dinner. And for the strain you put on my old heart with your little shenanigans, I do not want to hear one word about not wishing to finish your vegetables."

There was a collective groan from both children as Rose took them each by the hand. She then looked up at Christine and gave her a wide smile, her still bright eyes crinkling at the corners.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, my lady," Rose said, dipping just a bit as if her old knees would not permit much more. Then with a respectful nod towards Erik she began to lead the children out the door. Before they disappeared, Amy looked back at Christine and gave her an exuberant wave.

"Come see us soon," she pleaded as she followed Rose and her brother down the hallway.

Christine was left alone in the room with Erik, the two of them staring at one another with shared looks of apprehension. Finally Erik took the first step and walked to the door, shutting it quietly before turning back to face her. With a heavy sigh he ran his fingers through his hair before daring to speak.

"You are probably wondering why…" he began, but Christine cut him off short.

"_Why_ you did not tell me about Robert and Amy?" she asked, her tone starting at confused - but quickly heading towards anger. "Or perhaps _why_ you chose to keep silent when I specifically asked you if there were any children living in or near Summercrest? They were the ones who left those flowers for me, and you knew it! Why Erik…_why_ did you feel the need to hide their existence from me?"

"Why?" he repeated, both shock and frustration showing in his eyes. Where had his meek and mild little bride gone? For suddenly standing before him was a woman not afraid of her own shadow but instead one who was set on learning the truth. "Isn't it obvious, Christine? I did so because I was afraid you would react just as you are now – that you would look at me with those very eyes full of mistrust and betrayal."

"If you see such things reflecting back at you, it is only because you failed to tell me about them in the first place," she argued. "Am I the only one who did not know about them? Obviously Madame Giry knows…and Rose, but what of Meg or Amir? Did every guest at our wedding know that I was unwittingly taking on two children as well as a husband that day?"

"No…very few know about Amy and Robert," he confessed, hoping this knowledge lessoned the blow a bit. "Yes Madame Giry knows, and probably Meg as well. But while the rest of the staff might suspect, I have done all I could to keep their existence a secret. Amir is aware of them, as is my father, but beyond that I have told no one."

"You keep so many secrets, Erik and yet you made such a point out of wanting _me_ to trust you. To open up and tell you about _my_ past and all the while you have been hiding those two adorable children in the east wing! An area of this house, I might add, that I have been forbidden to visit. Well, I suppose I now know why!"

_Oh Christine, you can't even begin to know the reasons I keep you from there,_ Erik thought ruefully to himself.

"Perhaps I was wrong to keep them a secret," he found himself forced to admit.

"There is no _perhaps_ about it…you _were _wrong," she scolded him.

Erik flinched at her barbed tone, and did his best to continue. "Madam Giry advised me to tell you about them, but I…I just couldn't."

"Why on earth not?" she persisted. "Did you think I would reject them, not wanting to have anything to do with your children? Do you truly think me that shallow…that heartless?"

"_Would_ you have accepted them as your own?" he asked, his voice rising in anger and hurt. "Or instead judge them just like my father did, as insignificant bastards born from a supposed dalliance during my irresponsible and misspent youth?" He did not mean for his words to come out so loud or harsh but just the thought of his father and how he had reacted towards Robert and Amy made his blood boil. "For he took one look at those angelic little faces and denounced them both as a blight upon the family name, refusing to even acknowledge their existence."

"How could he?" Christine gasped. "They are only innocent children!"

"Yes, Robert and Amy are innocent," he agreed, taking a step closer to her, a sad expression on his face. "Yet I fear that you will not declare me as such, seeing as though I now claim to have fathered them without the benefit of marriage."

"That is still no reason to hide their existence, from me or anyone else," Christine stated angrily, folding her arms over her chest as she stared back at him. "They had no control over the manner in which they were conceived and it makes them no less worthy of love and acceptance." Here Christine stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. They would get nowhere by shouting at one another. "If this marriage is to work, then you need to stop keeping secrets from me Erik. Especially secrets that are known to run around this house with angelic little faces."

Her last words caused Erik to look up, a slight grin springing to his lips as he stared at her hopefully.

"And I suppose…" Christine continued thoughtfully, "…if you were to say that you felt the need to sequester them away in order to protect them from prying eyes or wagging tongues, I _might_ find it in my heart to forgive your actions." Erik opened his mouth to speak but she quickly held up her hand, calling for silence as she continued her speech. "However, like Amir said, having taken a wife will add to your credibility and in turn to your children as well. My acceptance will not truly legitimize them or protect them from every scornful look but if I publicly receive them, then no one would dare speak out against them in our presence."

"You would do that?" Erik asked in shock. He had known Christine had a gentle soul but this was almost more than he could have hoped. "You would overlook their parentage and be able to see them for the truly marvelous children they are? For you will not find a mean spirited bone in either one, they are truly exceptional in all aspects."

"Spoken like a true father," Christine smiled, finding his lion-like defense of his children admirable. "But what of their mother? They told me they had none; that she was no longer able to take care of them herself. Dare I ask if there is a chance she will return?"

"No…she will not return. The girl who was once their mother… is gone," Erik said, turning his head to the side, his eyes refusing to meet hers. "I do not wish to discuss her and I would appreciate it if you did not encourage the children to do so either. It would only bring them pain."

Christine was silent for a long while, her mind trying to decide how to proceed. She had spent enough of her time and energy being jealous over Rose, only to learn what a foolish pursuit that had been. Should she now allow this other woman, who Erik claimed was long gone, haunt her as well? Perhaps it was best to just let sleeping dogs lie and not dig up the past any longer. And yet…she felt she must know one thing.

"I will take you at your word and not speak of her again…_if _you answer one question first," she told him slowly, wondering if this would cause more harm than good. When Erik turned his face back towards hers and nodded warily, she found her courage to continue. "Tell me truthfully…did you _love_ her?"

Erik opened his mouth, but no words came. How could he answer that? To say no would be a lie, yet to say yes would hurt Christine. Unfortunately his silence did more damage than his words ever could and Christine gleaned the terrible truth.

"I see," she murmured, turning around and burying her face in her hands, unwilling to look at him.

"No, Christine…it is not what you think," he protested, taking a few quick strides until he was directly behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. "What I felt for their mother was far different than what I would feel for the woman I married…for you, Christine." He let his hands slip down the sides of her arms until he came to her waist, feeling her shiver slightly as he encircled her there, pulling her against his solid frame. He lowered his head until his lips were resting beside her ear, his next words whispered in a gentle tone full of desire. "_You_ are my wife and the only one I wish to share my name…and my bed with. I know you have yet to learn to trust me and what you discovered here today has most likely destroyed what little ground we had gained, but I swear I will earn it back. I will do everything I can to prove to you that I can and will be a true and faithful husband to you." Erik closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that he had not ruined all hope of winning this innocent girl's heart.

"I want to believe you, Erik," she assured him, her voice wavering slightly. "I truly do…but how can I when it seems that you are unwilling to trust me in return."

"I am so sorry," was all he could think to say, and he meant it. "Please find it in your heart to forgive me, for you have to believe that I acted out of fear…not malice."

"I want to be a good wife to you, to share your burdens as well as your joys," she said, turning in his grip until she faced him, her palms resting on his chest while his own hands never left her side. "Let me prove this by helping with your children. I want to get to know them and perhaps in time…we can all become a true family."

Erik reached up and touched her face, brushing a few stray wisps of hair from out of her eyes as he smiled down at her.

"I think Robert and Amy would like that very much," he told her. "I know I would."

"Then they should join us for dinner tonight…in the dining room." she stated, hoping her words conveyed the conviction she felt.

Erik was taken aback…while he was certain that most of the servants were well aware that there _were_ two children living in the east wing, he was not all together sure they knew _who_ they were. Dare he now openly claim them as his own in front of everyone?

"I am not sure if that would be a wise idea," Erik said hesitantly.

"It is time everyone in this house knew about them," she argued. "If your father is already aware of them, what harm could it do for the servants to know as well? Do you think they would judge or treat them harshly?"

"No, I am sure they would do no such thing," he admitted.

"Then there should be no issue…unless it is _you_ who are ashamed of them?" she questioned accusingly.

"Of course not!" Erik adamantly denied.

"Then it is settled, you will have Rose deliver the children to the dining room where they will be taking their meals with us from now on." She then stepped backwards, pulling herself from his hold. "If I am to get to know them, I will need to spend a lot more time with them."

"Have I no say in the matter?" he asked, not sure if he should feel proud of his wife for her strong convictions, or instead bullied by her.

"None whatsoever," she assured him. "But don't worry, I did save you one piece of chocolate as a consolation prize." She reached over and picked up the box that still contained the one remaining square of candy and handed it to him with a sly grin.

Erik looked at the box for a moment and then back at her as his own smile spread across his face. Reaching out he took the offered confection and popped it into his mouth.

"I suppose it is better than nothing," he admitted.

"Much better than apples I would think," Christine agreed, watching Erik's eyes narrow in suspicion at her cryptic words. But before he could process her meaning, she took him by the hand and led him out of the library. "Come, we best tell Rose about the change in dinner plans before she makes them eat too many of those dreaded vegetables."

.

.

Oh yes...We can't torture those kids with too many veggies! Well I hope a few more things are cleared up for you. And I hope you all read between the lines there. Any new theories?


	17. Chapter 17

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest** - Yes, Erik is a bit reluctant to discuss his mask at the moment, but fear not, all will be revealed (no pun intended) in time on that subject. And yes, Christine does find the whole horse training thing and how it now applies to her rather amusing. Thanks for your review!

**Melstrife** - Oh you are keeping your theories to yourself for now are ya? hee hee, Ok, but I still love hearing them.

.

**So...now we have two adorable kids to throw into the mix! Oh what fun! Let's see how they handle family domesticity...**

.

**Chapter 17**

.

.

It was not long before the four of them were seated at the large table in the dining hall. Erik had placed two cushions on the chairs where Robert and Amy now sat, allowing them to be able to see better and reach their plates. Erik noted that the two normally exuberant children were uncharacteristically quiet and it bothered him to watch as they looked around the room nervously. They appeared unsure how to act in such a large and elegant room and he felt a stab of regret at the idea that his keeping them hidden away might have adversely affected them in some way.

He had done it solely for their protection, not to mention his own as well as others, but perhaps Christine was right, Robert and Amy should no longer be kept out of sight. After all, Erik's reputation had been destroyed the day he was forced to put on the mask, so what further harm could come from claiming he had two illegitimate children? With Christine now willing to shield them from degrading looks or the stigma of no motherly influence, it could actually work out well. He certainly never intended to keep the children locked away forever with Rose, Antoinette and himself as their only company. Yes, Christine finding out about them might have been the best thing after all.

There were a few tense moments when Bridget came in with the tea service and found she needed to bring in two more cups and place settings. Yet to her credit, she collected herself admirably and returned to the kitchen to inform the cook of the change in plans. Erik could just imagine the whole mansion a twitter by morning about the revealing of the children and their linage. However, after one look at the happy smiles on Christine and the children's faces, Erik was left with no regrets.

"Do you eat in here all the time?" Amy asked, unable to keep her eyes from straying to the large chandelier over her head. "It is so pretty."

"We do, and now so will you," Christine assured her as she reached over and placed the napkin that Bridget had just brought in on her little lap, nodding to her own as an example. This caused Amy to sit up a bit straighter, doing her best to emulate Christine.

"Who sits in the other chairs?" Robert asked, looking at all the empty seats around the large banquet table.

"They are for when we have company or a dinner party," Erik explained, silently praying that horror never befall him again.

"A party?" Amy asked, her eyes lighting up. "Can we have one of those?"

"No," came Erik's immediate and firm response, making the little girl lower her head in sadness.

"What your father meant," Christine interjected, eager to smooth over Erik's gruff response. "Was that he would much rather just spend time with you and not with a bunch of guests he has no interest in." She then cocked her head to the side and gave her thoughtless husband a glaring look. "Is that not correct, _dear_?"

"Of course," Erik agreed, feeling rather ashamed at seeing how Amy had been crushed by his unkind word. He suddenly realized just how little time he had spent in the children's company over the past three years. At first, when they had been mere infants, they did not need his attention, but as they began to walk and talk he made more and more time to visit with them. Yet unfamiliar with how to deal with children, he kept his visits short, choosing to make scheduled appearances for breakfasts, dinners and occasional play time in their chambers. Leaving the bulk of their raising to Rose and Madam Giry. He had _played_ the part of a father, yet had never fully taken on the role. Now with Christine in the picture, he knew he could no longer skate by with mere visits…a full time father he would now have to become. Looking at the dejected Amy he quickly leaned over and gave Robert a little nudge. "Why would we ever want to visit with a bunch of stuffy guests when you and I have two such pretty girls at our table already, right Robert?"

"Right!" the young boy agreed with a wide smile.

Erik's compliment made little Amy look up and smile brightly, telling him that he was now forgiven for his unthinking words. He decided that he would have to be even more careful in keeping such outbursts of opinion in check if he would now be spending a larger amount of time in the presence of children.

Bridget and the other kitchen maid arrived just then with their meals on large serving trays. They smiled as they set them in front of the children, who let out squeals of delight at the sight of very few vegetables.

With the addition of Christine to their lives, the children realized that many things were about to change and this prompted an endless barrage of questions from both Robert and Amy as the dinner continued. Erik did his best to remain open-minded, saying yes to as many reasonable requests as he could, while still retaining his parental authority over their safety and well-being.

He knew he should not be surprised that most of their petitions revolved around access to the rest of the house and grounds, but he was. He had simply not realized how confined they had apparently come to feel, being regulated to only their chambers and private play yard. He had known as they grew they would require more space to explore, but in his eyes they had gone from infants to inquisitive children practically overnight. And now it was quite clear that they wished to venture forth and explore their environment. So after putting in place certain boundaries for their own good, Erik reluctantly gave them permission to explore the house.

"However, you must have someone accompany you when you go venturing forth, do you understand?" Erik once more repeated his stipulations. "You are to take either Rose or Madam Giry with you."

"Or Christine?" Robert asked hopefully, looking from his father to his new mother and back again.

"If she is willing to go," Erik agreed, not wishing to speak for her in this matter. He had done enough damage already, he knew from here on out he needed to tread lightly.

"Of course I would love to go exploring with you two," Christine told them with a big smile. "I have not seen everything Summercrest has to offer yet myself. It will be fun for all three of us…four if your father wishes to join in."

"Yes Papa, come with us and that way we will not get lost," Robert pleaded, eager to spend time with his paternal figure.

"I will when I can but I have many duties that I need to attend to during the day," he cautioned them. "However, I will certainly try to come when I am able."

"Hurray!" Amy squealed, clapping her hands together in glee.

Erik felt somewhat guilty that his willingness to join them also stemmed from the hope that he might steer them away from one very specific room he wished for Christine…and the children…to never become aware of. He made a mental note to remind Antoinette to keep that particular door locked at all times.

After dinner was finished Erik escorted them all down the hall to the east wing towards the children's rooms, the very hall that had previously been forbidden for Christine to enter. Her inquisitive eyes lingered on the one locked door she had seen Madam Giry enter as they passed, still unsure if she could believe the explanation the house keeper had given her at the time.

When they arrived at the children's quarters Christine was impressed at the size and opulence of the enormous, well-stocked play room. A large wooden shelf lined one wall and was crammed full of both picture books as well as story books, many of them looking as if they had been well used in entertaining the children. Toys littered the floor as well as a wooden rocking horse and an intricate doll house with hand carved furniture. It was obvious that Robert and Amy had not been neglected when it came to material things but from the way they seemed to cling to Erik and hang on his every word, perhaps they had been deprived of their father's attention more than even he realized.

Rose had been sitting in a comfortable chair by the fireplace, an empty tray nearby indicating that she had already had her dinner and had been enjoying some time for herself. She respectfully stood when they entered and gave Erik and Christine a pleasant smile, as if to say she approved of the family bonding time that had just taken place.

"Come and see our yard!" Robert insisted, taking hold of Christine's hand and dragging her out a small door at the back of the suite. The door opened up on to a securely railed balcony with a wide set of steps leading down into a large grassy area where the children obviously played.

Christine could not see it all due to the darkness, but she could tell that the space was quite large as well as safely bricked in by an enormous wall and solid wooden gate. She allowed the two children to escort her around, nodding and commenting on every tree, shrub and toy they pointed at. Yet soon it became chilly and Christine lured them back inside with the promise of joining them another day to play out here in the sunlight. When they arrived back inside Rose announced it was time for the twins to be put down for the night, her words being met with moans of protest from both children.

"Will you tuck us in?" Amy asked, pulling on Christine's hand as she led the way to their shared room.

"You too, Papa," Robert insisted as all four left the main nursery, leaving Rose behind to stand there and chuckle.

Once in the room each child scrambled to get dressed in their night clothes, jumping into their perspective beds on either side of the room. Christine went to sit beside Amy while Erik stood next to Robert's bed, his arms crossed and feeling a bit out of place. He had never done this before without Rose there to help, now unsure as to how he should proceed.

"Tell us a story, Papa," Robert suggested, looking up at his father's stern face and then adding quietly. "Please?"

"Yes, a story!" Amy chimed in, sitting up and clasping her hands in her little lap excitedly. "One with a fairy queen and a brave knight that battles a fearsome dragon."

"I don't know any stories like that," he admitted, sitting down uncomfortably at the far end of Robert's bed.

"You can make it up," Amy offered.

"Yes, Erik…make one up," Christine chimed in, her face alive with mischief. "After all you are very good at making up stories."

Erik looked over at her and did his best to gauge his wife's temperament after her odd statement. Was she needling him over the fact that he kept the children's existence a secret? From the smile on her face he came to the conclusion that she was. Yet, Erik felt no malice towards her because of it, for in truth…he knew he deserved it.

"Very well…" Erik agreed with a sigh of defeat. "Once upon a time," he began, his mind spinning with ideas. "There was a very beautiful fairy princess named…Amy."

"Me? I am the fairy princess?" This pleased the little girl immensely and her eyes lit up with glee.

"And princess Amy had the most beautiful set of fairy wings there ever was, putting even the most delicate butterfly to shame," Erik went on to say, watching Christine out of the corner of his eye. "One day, into the forest where all the fairies lived, came a handsome and brave knight named Robert."

"Robert isn't handsome!" Amy laughed, flopping back against her pillow as she squealed at the idea.

"You be quiet, Amy," Robert ordered, crossing his arms and giving a huff, much the way Erik did, or so Christine thought. "Papa is telling the story."

"Yes I am, and if people keep interrupting me I will stop now and bid you two goodnight," he warned, earning him two silent children. "Much better," he nodded, tipping his head up a bit as he thought about what to say next. He continued his story, weaving a fanciful tale of magical spells and acts of bravery followed by the slaying of a fearsome dragon that had come to steal a golden crown belonging to the fairy princess. In the end the brave Robert saved the day and received a chest of jewels for his chivalrous deed from princess Amy, leaving both children clapping in delight.

"Another one, Papa!" Amy called.

"No, now you need to go to sleep," Erik disagreed. "One story is quite enough."

"I am thirsty," Robert suddenly announced, sitting back up in bed.

"Me too," Amy stated as well.

Christine tried to hide her giggle behind her hand as she watched Erik roll his eyes in frustration.

"If we get you a drink, will that be the end of it?" Erik asked, looking at the children suspiciously. "Or will you then be hungry as well, once your thirst is quenched."

"No, Papa, that is all," Robert promised, giving him an innocent look.

Christine volunteered to get the water while Erik stayed with the children, still doing her best not to laugh out loud as she left the room. She found Rose and the elderly woman helped her obtain the needed libations and she headed back towards the room, pausing just outside the door when she heard her name mentioned by Amy.

"Now that you and Christine are married, can we call her mother?" she asked in a hopeful little voice.

From the doorway Christine held her breath, not sure how Erik would react. She had no qualms about the children addressing her as such, in fact she imagined she would enjoy it very much. But the long pause before Erik gave an answer made her uneasy and doubtful that he felt the same way.

"How about we wait a while on that," she heard him say in a low voice, his tone quite perplexing. "We should give Christine time to get to know us better…all three of us, before we bring up the subject again?"

"All right," Amy answered back, apparently not happy with his suggestion, but willing to obey her father.

Christine shut her eyes and tried not to shed a tear. Was Erik's hesitation to let them address her as such stemming from his continued devotion to their true mother? Did he still think of her and did not wish to disrespect her memory by assigning that beloved title to another? Well if that were true, there was nothing she could do about it now and there were two thirsty children waiting for their water. So taking a deep breath, Christine squaring her shoulders and pushed the door open, heading back inside.

It still took an additional ten minutes to get the children to settle down before they blew out the last candle and said their final goodnights. Upon shutting the door Erik gave a sigh of relief, _no wonder Rose looked so haggard at times – this was hard work! _

"Not so easy is it, Master Erik?" Rose asked, as if she had just read his mind.

"No…no it is not," he agreed with a chuckle.

"Well now that you have a pretty new bride, it should be easier. At least there are not two of them and only one of you anymore," Rose pointed out as she took both of Christine's hands in hers and gave them a gentle squeeze. "You are a God-send, my lady. I can already tell that the children adore you and that you care for them just as much. A woman can't be in this business as long as I have not to recognize a natural born mother such as you."

"I…I…" Christine stammered, not sure how to respond to such a compliment, especially in front of the man who had the ability to make her an official parent. "Thank you," was all she could muster in the end, but it seemed to please Rose just fine.

"Now you two scoot off, I will take the night shift," the old woman said, practically shooing them out the door.

Erik and Christine walked down the hall in silence, she unwilling to make eye contact and he found he was unable to think of anything to say. They had just neared their doorway when Antoinette came up behind them.

"Master Erik," she called, halting them as they turned. "I was wondering if I could speak to you about a matter?"

Erik looked at her and then to Christine, not sure how to respond. Yet he recognized that look of impatience on his housekeeper's face and he knew she would not be deterred.

"Very well," he agreed, turning back to Christine. "Meg can help you get ready for bed, I will be along as soon as I am able," he assured her, wondering if he was even still welcome in the room, let alone their bed. They had not had a chance to speak in private since the big revelation and he wished he knew exactly where he stood with her. However, no matter how much he wished to find out, he knew it would have to wait. Erik reached down and took her hand, kissing the back of it in a gesture of farewell before following Madam Giry back down the hall.

.

Christine stood there for a bit and watched them until they rounded the corner and was out of her view. Part of her wanted nothing more than to follow them and find out exactly what it was that was so urgent that could always draw him away from her at the most inopportune times. But with a sigh of resignation she instead turned and headed inside their room, pulling on the gold cord by the fireplace that would summon Meg up to assist her. She laughed at herself for having so quickly become accustomed to the life of a Lady and how nice it was to have servants ready and willing to come at your beck and call. She firmly resolved to not take them or this life for granted though, to always be appreciative and show her gratitude. She refused to become a pampered snob like some of the rich girls had been who came to the abbey.

Meg arrived and soon Christine was dressed for bed and brushing her hair while she sat at the dressing table, all the while the little maid was chatting happily.

"I was so happy to hear that you found out about the children," Meg said, her wide smile still plastered on her pretty face. "I wanted to tell you about them, truly I did, Lady Christine, but mother would have skinned me alive if I had."

"I understand," Christine laughed, knowing just how formidable the elderly housekeeper could be.

"But even though I knew there were two children living in the east wing, I swear I had no idea they were Master Erik's! There were rumors of course, since they were here in his house but no one had ever confirmed it, so I just passed it off as speculation. I mean, I never thought that the master would…that is, that he might…" Meg was becoming flustered and with each word was digging herself a hole that she was beginning to fear getting out of. "What I mean to say is…I admire Master Erik a great deal, after all he has done for me and my mother, how could I not."

"Oh, and what was that?" Christine asked, turning in her chair in order to look at her directly.

"Well he took us in…both of us when he certainly did not have to," Meg told her, happy to be able to change the subject. "You see, after my father died my mother had to take a job working for another family in a nearby city. I could tell she hated it there but there was nothing else she could do. She tried to keep me with her at first but I was too young to be of any true use in the household, being only thirteen at the time, so I was sent to live with my aunt in the country for the next two years."

"That sounds like fun," Christine said, imagining rolling meadows, big brown eyed cows and baby chicks newly hatched.

"My aunt was very nice, but she had five children of her own to care for, so I am afraid I was a bit lonely and I missed my mother terribly," Meg said, her eyes growing sad at the memory. "Then mother wrote and said she got a new job working for Master Erik, here at Summercrest, and he said I could come live here as well. Once I arrived I knew right away it was simply out of kindness that he hired me, for even though I was old enough to be of use, he could afford plenty of servants much more qualified than I was. Yet, I was just too happy to be back with my mother to care and did any job assigned to me over the past four years. I would gladly work from morning to night just for the privilege of living at Summercrest and you can't imagine how pleased I was to be assigned as your lady's maid. It is a very big honor and Master Erik is showing a lot of faith in me to be given the job."

"Well I think you are doing splendidly," Christine complimented her, making her blush.

"Thank you, Lady Christine," Meg said, hanging up her dress in the wardrobe.

"I am just glad that there are no more secrets," Christine said, once more baiting the little maid in hopes of gaining information from her reaction. And once again, she was not disappointed.

"I…ummm, yes…I am sure you are. Is there anything else I can get you?" Meg stammered as she took a few steps backwards towards the door, as if she were anxious to make a hasty exit.

"No, I am quite good for the night," she assured her, keeping any further questions to herself, so as not to cause the poor girl to trip over her own feet and injure herself. "Thank you for your help."

"I will bid you goodnight then, my lady," Meg said as she quickly slipped out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

.

Christine sat there for a long time as she brushed her hair, thinking of all the things that had transpired that day. She had awakened that morning as only a wife, yet she was now going to bed a mother of two. Well, a mother in theory, since Erik had not yet christened her with the title. It hurt her heart to think that he might still have feelings for the woman who had given birth to his children. The woman he had not only taken to his bed, but still loved enough not to wish her children to call another woman their mother.

Yet where was she now? Long gone, Erik had said, but since he had not specified whether that meant dead or simply ran off, leaving him with the children, she was left to wonder. Yet, _she_ was now his wife…_she_ was the one he had stood at the altar with and took vows. _Christine_, not some nameless, faceless woman that he had known in the past and that was what Christine was determined to focus on.

Yet, Meg's reaction had confirmed that there _were_ still more secrets nestled within the walls of Summercrest. What else could Erik be hiding from her? Or was it instead Madam Giry who harbored a secret? After all, it was her that Christine had seen going into that door in the east wing and locking it behind her. Was Meg afraid she would discover something her mother was endeavoring to hide and it had nothing to do with Erik at all? Could it also be tied up with the cries she had heard on her first night at the mansion? She wondered….

Christine's thoughts were interrupted as the door behind her opened and Erik entered the room. He did not speak and she watched him warily through the reflection of the mirror as he approached her from behind, much like he had done the night before. She wished, not for the first or last time, that she could see his whole face in order to read his expression, but his mask continued to rob her of that useful tool in understanding her husband. Erik's eyes however told stories of their own and each time she found herself lost in his golden windows of the soul, it left her breathless. Tonight was no exception.

Without a word he reached out and gently took the brush from her hand once again and began to slowly run it through her hair. It was amazing how one simple act could cause such excitement in her and she shut her eyes, simply allowed herself to enjoy the attention. It was then that Christine remembered how many of the things Erik had been doing the past few days paralleled with tactics he had been employing on the training of her horse and she could not help but chuckle inwardly. Christine wiggled her toes under the vanity and wondered just how long it might be before Erik bought her a new pair of shoes.

Erik had been staring at Christine through the mirror as he worked and noticed the sweet smile that played at her lips, the same lips he now felt a keen desire to kiss.

"Does this feel nice?" he asked, believing the chances of her possibly enjoying it more than he currently did, unthinkable.

"Very nice," Christine murmured, after a long relaxed hum. "Thank you."

Erik suddenly stopped and came over to stand beside her, taking her hand in his just before he went down on one knee.

"No, Christine…thank you," he began, his voice low and sincere.

"For…for what?" she asked, a bit startled by his current position of humility.

"For not rejecting Robert and Amy…or me," he began, reaching out to now take her other hand as well. "It is obvious that they are both very fond of you and you have treated them with such kindness and affection. I will never be able to repay you for that. Not many women would display such compassion for another…person's children."

Christine noted how he had used the word _person's_ and not _woman's,_ perhaps realizing just how much the idea of his previous lover pained her. While she still wanted nothing more than to barrage him with questions about the twin's mysterious mother, she had promised him that she would inquire no more. Still, that did not mean she could not obtain information from other sources – not the children of course, but the servants had to know something. _Especially Rose_. However, now was not the time to think about that, there would be plenty of opportunities later.

"Your children are very easy to love, Erik," she assured him, giving his hands a little squeeze. "I look forward to getting to know them better and having them get to know me. In fact, you have given me the greatest gift of all through them."

"I have?" Erik asked, cocking his head slightly to one side. "What is that?"

"A purpose," she smiled. "Remember when I mentioned a need to feel useful here at Summercrest? Well I think I just found what that might be. I would like the opportunity to help you raise the twins, to educate them and see that they are taken care of and attended to." When Erik opened his mouth to speak, Christine quickly continued, afraid he might be ready to object. "Please, Erik I need something to occupy my time besides reading. I would like to be so much more involved…to feel needed. I know that they already have Rose to care for them but even she could use some help or free time to herself. I beg of you to allow me to be a bigger part of their lives…_please_." With her last words she pulled his hands, which were still wrapped around her own, up to her chest and pressed them against her exposed collarbone in an imploring gesture, her eyes all but beseeching him to agree.

At the sensation of her delicate skin against his hands Erik's knees went weak and his mouth suddenly became as dry as a desert. Oh she could ask him for the world at that moment and he could deny her nothing.

"Christine," he began, clearing his throat in an attempt to steady his voice. "I was not going to argue with you. I am delighted that you wish to take on such a role, that you truly wish to interact with Robert and Amy in such a manner." He then stood up, his hands not leaving hers but instead drawing her upwards until she was positioned in front of him, only a breath's distance away. "I would be honored to have you take on the part of their teacher, fearless protector and m…" Erik's word was cut off there, as he found he was unable… or unwilling, to refer to her as their mother just yet. So instead he took the coward's way out. "…and mentor."

Christine had caught his stumble but could not be certain if he had meant to use the word mother or not…but she suspected.

"Thank you, Erik," she told him, choosing to focus on what she had just gained and not what she might have lost. "I will do all I can to make them happy, to help give them the love they deserve."

His heart was moved by her words and he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek as he curled his fingers inward, letting only the back of his knuckles touch flesh. He was suddenly overcome with an urgent need to protect Christine, not only from her past or the world…but from himself as well. He still had so many secrets and lies surrounding him, that he once more felt pity for his innocent bride. So instead of taking her in his arms like he desired, kissing her lips until they were both left breathless…he simply leaned down and placed a chaste peck on her forehead. "We should turn in," he told her, leading her over to the bed as he pulled back the covers.

He wordlessly assisted her with the removal of her dressing gown, an act that once more tested his resolve but he was able to hold true. He then waited for her to climb inside and snuggle down before covering her up all the way to the chin. Erik excused himself and retired to the washroom to change into his night clothes, splashing cold water on his unmasked face several times in order to gain some perspective. When he returned, mask securely back in place, he found that she was now turned on her side, eyes shut and breathing slow and even, leading him to believe that she had fallen asleep. He doused the lights and carefully slipped in beside her, doing his best not to disturb her as he went. He had just lain down on his back, his hands resting at his sides as he stared up into the darkness, when he felt it. The warm and tentative grip of her hand on his as she rolled over and faced him.

"Good night Erik," she whispered, not showing any signs of letting go.

"Good night, Christine," he answered back around the lump in his throat.

Perhaps there was the chance he could be forgiven for his folly after all? Perhaps there was hope for the two of them? And maybe…just maybe…he would not have to face the rest of his life alone and without love.

.

.

**Yippeee, there is hope for them after all, and Erik's secret about the children did not mess it all up after all. I see happier times on the horizon for our dynamic duo! Well, you know...until it all hits the fan when his OTHER secrets come out. ha ha But that will be fun too.**

**Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews! Keep them coming!**


	18. Chapter 18

.

**I am so happy that my luggage that has been missing for the past 22 days finally made it back home to me!**

**Makes me wonder where it has been while I was on my 16 day vacation, sorely missing all my clothes, curling iron, shampoo and make up!**

**But they are home now and to celebrate I am posting a bonus chapter for you all today!**

**ENJOY!**

.

**Melstrife:** Nope, the kids didn't mess up anything. If anything, they made things better I think. As for who is still in the house...you will see. And oh yes, no matter what Erik does, Christine WILL find her way into that room, you can count on that! Where there is a will...there is a way!

.

Now lets see what fun our little 'family' can have today!

.

**Chapter 18**

.

.

As the next morning dawned, a whole new existence began for Christine, at last she felt she had a purpose. Granted she knew her main assignment was to be the Lady of Summercrest and Erik's wife. However, since she still had no idea exactly how to fulfill _those_ roles, she devoted her full attentions to her new task…that of taking care of Erik's children.

It began with breakfast in the dining room, both children having been brought down as instructed and they enjoyed a hearty, as well as lively, meal together. Later when Erik informed them he needed to attend to his duties concerning the manor, Christine was only too happy to follow the children back to their rooms and have them introduce her to every toy, doll and game they possessed. Even though the twins were only a bit over the tender age of three, Christine found them amazingly intelligent and not at all shy. They spoke their minds quite eloquently and hardly ever showed a hint of childish stubbornness or fits of temper. Truly, they were enchanting and the more time she spent with them, the more pieces of her heart they seemed to steal.

The servants were noticeably shocked to see the two children running around the mansion, though from the things she overheard, every one of them had known of their existence for years. The two boisterous siblings would have been difficult indeed to keep completely hidden away, no matter how hard Erik had tried. In no time at all the startled looks ceased and everyone went about their business as if Erik having two children was the most natural thing in the world.

One day turned into two and then three, with Christine hardly noticing the passage of time. She was having far too much fun getting to know Robert and Amy and it seemed that she and Erik were even acting more cordial to one another. No arguments arose and each night he would ingratiate himself to her even further by his attentiveness and gentle acts in helping her prepare for bed. She looked forward to when he would brush her hair, taking his time until it was soft as silk and glistened in the moonlight. Christine no longer thought of how the act had begun as a tactic derived from his attempts to tame her horse, now she only saw it for what it was. _Wonderful._

Yet each night Erik would only kiss her hand, her forehead or her cheek, before turning in. At first she thought it was very gallant of him but little by little she began to want more. Where had the Erik gone who had once backed her up against a wall and kissed her lips so soundly? Had she truly chased him away with her maidenly innocence and continued reluctance to perform her wifely duties? Did she take so long to decide that he had lost all interest in her? Had her chance for marital love passed her by?

Christine knew she had been spending quite a bit of time with the children but was she also neglecting her husband? Recalling their first few days as a married couple she realized that she had relied exclusively on him for companionship. Yet now with the twins to distract her, she had spent very little time solely in Erik's company. Now that she thought of it, Erik too had seemed to be limiting their private time together, always opting to have the children accompany them wherever they went, be it for a walk or just some quiet reading time in the library. Was he now afraid of her…of being alone with her? This had to change. For how could she ever hope to develop a deep affection for her husband if it was never just the two of them? Thankfully the opportunity to rectify the situation presented itself the following day.

At breakfast Madam Giry came in and brought the daily post to Erik, as she did most days when something had arrived. Yet this time Christine noticed there was a large envelope among the normal correspondence. She watched as Erik opened it, his eyes narrowing as he read what it contained.

"Bad news?" Christine asked, hoping that he would share what it said.

"Depends on how you look at it," he mumbled, passing the engraved card over for her to inspect.

"It's an invitation to have dinner at Lord and Lady Kingsford's home at the end of the week," Christine said out loud, as she scanned the letter.

"It would appear so," Erik nodded absently, taking a drink of his tea as he leaned over and tickled Robert in his ribs, making the little boy squeal with laughter.

"Will we be attending?" Christine asked, her eagerness to do so quite evident in her voice. She had learned that the Kingsford estate was some distance away by coach and the ride there and back would offer her plenty of time to be alone with Erik. Trapped in a small carriage where he could not escape or avoid talking to her…yes that would be perfect!

"Do you wish to?" Erik asked, looking back at her suddenly. He had not anticipated her actually _wanting_ to go. "I thought you said you never wanted to see those four ladies again?"

"I did not terribly mind Clair Kingsford," Christine admitted, slipping the invitation back into the embossed envelope. "And perhaps it would not kill either of us to at least _try_ and make friends."

"It might," Erik mumbled under his breath as he contemplated her request. He reminded himself that he had said he would do anything to make her feel more comfortable here at Summercrest. If that meant taking her to some mind-numbingly dull dinner party, then he saw no way out of it. "Yet… if _you_ wish to go, then I will send back a response today with our acceptance," he promised.

"Can we go too?" Amy spoke up, having been listening to the conversation with rapt attention.

"I am afraid not, princess," Erik told her, though he would gladly have sent little Amy in his place. "This is a gathering for grownups only. Perhaps next time it can be more of a family affair."

Robert couldn't seem to care less about not being invited to this dinner party, but Amy appeared crestfallen over the denial, causing Christine to quickly intervene.

"Amy, I will need you to help me choose a dress, fix my hair and get ready. Will you be my special helper in this?" she asked, causing the little girl's face to light up at the idea of playing dress up with Christine.

"And jewelry?" she asked. "Can I help you pick that out too?"

"I am afraid I do not have much in the way of jewelry," Christine admitted, knowing her only two pieces consisted of her mother's earrings and the wedding band she now wore on her left hand.

"Well then, perhaps it is time to remedy _that_ oversight," Erik spoke up, nodding towards her resolutely as he finished his cup of tea and rose from the table. "But for now I must take my leave. I will see you all at lunch." Then he was gone.

.

An hour before their scheduled lunch time, Christine suggested the three of them head outside to watch their father as he worked with the Arabian mare. A job Erik had continued with, even though she had not had time to accompany him over the last few days. Of course the twins were excited, never having been very close to a horse before, so hand in hand they headed for the corral.

Erik was attempting to lay a blanket across the back of the horse, testing her tolerance for the slight weight it posed. Christine could tell that Angel was confused by this, turning her head several times to look at the new and unfamiliar object, unsure if she liked it.

"Can we ride the horse?" Robert asked, stepping up on the bottom rung and sticking his little head through the fence, his eyes bright and eager.

"Not this one," Christine told him. "She is still learning and is not yet willing to give anyone a ride."

"Is she yours?" Amy inquired.

"Yes, she was a wedding gift from a friend of your father's," she continued. "But soon your papa will have her trained and then he promised to show _me_ how to ride her."

"Can he show us too?" Robert was like a dog with a bone, for now that he had seen one up close, it was all too obvious that his new obsession was to ride a horse.

His little mind was even more made up when Erik led Angel over to where they stood and lifted him up in his arms so that the boy could reach her better. He stroked the animal as if she were made of gold, his eyes lit up with pure joy.

"May I have a horse, Papa?" he begged, unwilling to let his hands stray from her soft coat for long.

"Perhaps," Erik had not considered that Robert might wish to have one of his own and yet, had he not begun riding lessons at a young age as well? "However, I think it would be wise to start you off with something less spirited," Erik decided, setting Robert down as he picked Amy up, in order to give her a chance to pet the Arabian next.

Erik subsequently gave both children another turn at petting the horse, watching with a measure of pride how Angel seemed to crave their attention. His work with her was going well and she even seemed to not be noticing the weight of the blanket any longer, putting her one step closer to bearing a saddle. As he let his eyes travel from the horse to Christine, he found himself wishing that his bride had learned to trust him as quickly as her equine counterpart. Then again, he had not _lied_ to the horse.

He also knew that she would never come to fully trust him if he did not stop keeping secrets. But what choice did he have? He could not tell her the complete truth without her hating him, looking at him in disgust and spurning him for his sinful past. He would even be willing to risk her ire if it were only _he _that would be put at risk…but it wasn't and he dare not chance her learning the truth. It could bring all of Summercrest to its knees.

Erik had done his best to not be alone with Christine since the children had been discovered, not because he did not long for her company, oh no, that was the farthest thing from the truth. His original plan to keep her at arm's length stemmed from his desire to give her time to rebuild some trust in him. Yet seeing her interacting with Robert and Amy was causing him to develop even deeper feelings for his youthful bride. Every time he saw her playing with the twins, laughing and smiling as she hugged or kissed them, made him ache to see her holding a child they had created together in her arms. And to Erik's frustration, that feeling was growing increasingly stronger. So much so, that he felt it was time to take his ingenious plan to the next level. He had just acclimated the Arabian to the feel of the blanket, next being a bridle and saddle…perhaps it was time to see if Christine might be ready for that next step as well. He decided he would test the waters that night, and pray for smooth sailing.

Erik had been so lost in thought that he had not noticed that he was still staring at Christine and he could only imagine what she had been seeing in his eyes as he did. He guessed right when she looked away with a blush, obviously being made very uncomfortable by his heated gaze. He would need to keep his mind on the things at hand and not let them wander to such lustful thoughts in her presence.

Yet all of this was quickly forgotten when there came the sound of hoof beats heading up the path that led to the stables. Shading his eyes with his hand, Erik soon saw the source come into view. Amir was riding towards them, astride his own magnificent Arabian. Erik's eyes narrowed as Angel's ears perked up at the sight of his Persian friend's horse, obviously attracted to the new stallion. While Erik had been eager for similar reactions in Christine that he was fostering in Angel, he certainly hoped that was where the similarities ended and he would not see his wife perk up at the sight of Amir. Watching her closely, he did see a genuine smile spread across her face, but thankfully nothing that revealed heartfelt affection. Damn fortunate for Amir!

Erik stepped out of the corral and walked forward, waiting for his friend to come to a stop. When he did, Erik could tell that Amir was not looking at him. From the shocked expression on the Persian's face, he could guess what had attracted his attention. Turning, he saw Christine standing a ways back, holding Robert and Amy's hands and looking quite comfortable in the role of the maternal figure.

"_She knows_?" Amir asked in a hushed whisper as he quickly dismounted and handed the reins to Peter, who instinctively appeared, ready to assist.

"Yes, she knows about the twins," Erik nodded. "And…that they are _mine_," he added, giving his friend a stern look that conveyed a silent message between them.

"Ahhh, I see," Amir nodded in understanding. "And how is she taking the news of your…_indiscretion_?"

"As well as can be expected under the circumstances," Erik said with a heavy sigh.

"I take it then that she found out on her own and you were not forthcoming with their existence?" he asked.

"You assume correctly," Erik nodded.

"I pity you, my friend," Amir said, wincing slightly as he imagined the way that conversation might have gone. "Yet I am also amazed you are still walking straight."

"It didn't go _that_ badly," Erik told him with a roll of his eyes. "Now come and say hello before she thinks I am keeping more secrets from her."

"But you _are_," Amir pointed out, once more earning a withering look from his friend as they made their way over to Christine and the children.

"Uncle Amir!" Amy yelled as she launched herself into the Persian's eager arms.

"Why, I do believe, that you have grown since I saw you last," Amir informed the little girl with a large smile.

"What about me?" Robert asked, standing up as straight as he could in hopes of having gained an inch as well.

"Robert, you are practically a man!" Amir said with a gasp of shock. "What has Rose been feeding you two? Magic beans?"

At this the children both gave way to fits of giggles, very happy to see their doting uncle once more.

"And you Christine, I must say that you have grown as well," Amir stated, giving her an appraising look.

"Oh really?" she chuckled, unsure of his meaning.

"Yes, you have grown even more lovely since I last laid eyes on you," he finished, giving her one of his heart stopping smiles.

"Keep up your flattering talk and it will be two _black_ eyes you will be laying on her," Erik threatened.

"Come now Erik," Amir laughed not giving heed to his friends warning tone. "If you don't wish for men to stare at your wife, you should not have agreed to marrying one as pretty as Christine," he then brought his face in closer to Amy's as he tickled her tummy with his index finger. "Isn't that right my Ayesha?" Again his question brought forth a burst of giggles from the little girl as she nodded adamantly.

"Really, Amir, calling her the Persian word for _little one_ is rather contradictory when you just claimed that she has grown bigger," Erik told him with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't mind," Amy assured Erik, enjoying the attention and pet name very much.

"What am I?" Robert asked jumping up and down with his arms raised in hopes of Amir picking him up next.

"You…" Amir said, setting Amy down and lifting her brother up in the air. "You would be Rostom, meaning tall and strong!" This pleased Robert very much and he beamed with pride over his new name.

"What does Papa's name mean?" Amy asked, looking between the two males in front of her.

"Right now I would say it means _grouchy_," Amir laughed, looking at Erik's stern and unamused face.

Erik was all set to show him just how grouchy he could get, when the sound of Christine's laughter halted his impending tirade and melted his ire.

"Don't you two believe a word that your father or uncle say," she told the children, unable to wipe the smile off her face. "They have a very funny way of showing each other just how much they value their friendship."

"Oh you think so, do you?" Erik asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I _know _so," Christine nodded solemnly as she stepped forward and slipped her hand around his upper arm, pulling him close to her and out of his irritable stance.

Erik found that he could not hold onto his anger when she touched him and smiled up at him in that disarming manner. He could tell that Amir also noticed her action and raised an eyebrow at the way she appeared more comfortable around him since the last time he had seen them together. And it was true, for Christine had not made such a public overture towards Erik since before the secret of the children had been revealed. Could her trust in him have returned…or at least grown in measure? Perhaps tonight was not too soon for him to be implementing the next phase of his experiment after all.

"Can I ride your horse, Uncle Amir?" Robert asked, breaking Erik from his thoughts. When the Persian looked over at his friend for confirmation on how to respond, Erik explained the unexpected request.

"Robert here has suddenly taken a fascination to horses and wishes to become a master equestrian…and soon it would seem," he told Amir.

"Christine said you gave her a horse," the little boy continued. "Will you give me one too? Now that I am Ros…Ros…"

"Rostom," Amir finished for the boy.

"Yes, tall and strong!" he agreed, remembering that part very well.

"If he gets a horse, I want a kitten!" Amy interjected, her little lip sticking out in an immediate pout at the idea of her brother getting something and not her as well.

"Robert, I told you that I would think about it," Erik reminded him. "The same goes for you about a kitten, Amy. But until that time, your begging for such things will not endear me to your requests and the answer will be no. Do you understand?" He then gave them both a look that made them nod in compliance.

"Yes, Papa," they agreed.

"Now," Erik said, looking back to Amir. "I assume that you did not come all this way to insult me by flirting with my wife or inciting my children to a riot over horses and felines. Although, knowing you, I would not put it past you."

"I did indeed have a purpose for my impromptu visit. Two of them in fact," Amir assured him, setting Robert down as he pulled an envelope out of his pocket.

"Ahhh, I see you got one too," Erik nodded, recognizing the envelope as the same sort they had received that very morning.

"Then I was right in assuming I was only invited to the Kinsgford's little soiree in order to help entice you to attend?" Amir did not sound upset about this but instead amused.

"Why they thought inviting you would tempt me into coming is beyond me," Erik said with a snort of derision. "Not when my lovely bride has already professed her interest in attending."

"Really…so you have agreed?" Amir asked, quite shocked.

"I sent our acceptance out in this morning's post," Erik assured him, looking down at Christine and receiving a delightful smile for his announcement.

"Shall wonders never cease?" Amir said in mock amazement.

"Well if you can stand one more, then I will invite you to stay for lunch so we can discuss whatever your second reason was for coming," Erik suggested, gesturing towards the house.

"I would be delighted to join you four," the Persian assured him, once more scooping up Amy and grabbing Robert's hand as he fell into step with Erik and Christine. "As for my other reason for coming, I was wondering if we were still on for our hunting trip tomorrow."

_Damn!_ Erik had forgotten all about their plans to go hunting. So much had happened since he had told Amir he still intended to go. Could he trust Christine to be alone at Summercrest without him there to keep her away from certain places…and people? _Did he dare leave his prying, little Pandora unattended?_

_._

_. _

**Oh yes...CAN he leave Christine unattended? The snoopy little thing that she is? I guess he will just have to take a chance...or stay home!**

**Hope you enjoyed your bonus chapter...now make me smile and tell me what you thought of it...Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaase.**


	19. Chapter 19

.

**Melstrife:** Oh I think you know things can't stay happy forever with so many secrets waiting to be revealed! Won't that chapter be exciting!

**Guest:** I thought Erik worrying about the similarities between Angel and Christine should carry over to how Angel reacted to Amir's horse, ha ha. Poor Erik, he has to worry about everything. And you will learn soon enough what Erik meant when he decided to 'take things to the next level'.

**Guest:** THANKS!

.

**Now lets see what our boy has planned for the trip and how he plans to implement his horse training exercise on Christine.**

.

**Chapter 19**

.

.

The afternoon and evening had gone very well; with fun-loving Amir around, how could it have not? He was a very entertaining guest and was full of stories and tales of adventure that not only had the children sitting in rapt attention but Christine as well. More often than not the story would somehow curve back to reveal some comical tale of his and Erik's exploits of youth and this would either leave her husband red with anger or embarrassment. Sometimes both. Christine loved every one of them, seeing them as prized glimpses into Erik's past…a subject he was reluctant to discuss himself.

There was also much talk about the hunting trip Erik and Amir planned to take the following day. They would be joining several other nobles who lived in neighboring provinces, apparently the same group who went every year on this annual excursion. They would be hunting stag, for that was a gentleman's sport and the place to which they were going was such a distance that it would require Erik's absence till the following afternoon. Christine was uneasy about being left alone overnight, never having slept without Erik even once since she moved into their room. She did her best to hide her disappointment, choosing to instead be supportive and wish him well on his trip. Yet it still bothered her and in her heart she knew she wished Erik was staying.

All too soon dinner was over and the night was growing late, leading Christine to announce that it was way past the children's bed time. At first there were cries of protest but one stern look from Erik left them meekly complying with his fatherly wishes. Erik invited Amir into his study for a nightcap while Christine ushered the twins down towards their room, their little feet dragging a bit in evidence that they were indeed tuckered out. It did not take long to get them both undressed and snuggled down under the covers. Christine smoothed down Amy's hair, placing a goodnight kiss on her cheek before moving to her brother's bed.

"Do you really think Papa will get me my own horse one day?" Robert asked, just before he let out a very big yawn.

"I think that if your father said he would, he will keep his word," Christine nodded. "However, you must behave like a good boy and be deserving of one. That means minding when you are told to do something, especially when you are instructed to go to sleep."

Her words had the desired effect and she had to stifle a giggle as the little boy clamped his eyes shut and pulled the covers up to his chin as if he were forcing sleep to come. Christine leaned in and kissed his scrunched up little forehead and whispered 'sweet dreams' before dousing the light and quietly shutting the door. Once more she bid Rose a pleasant night before heading off to her own room. As she passed that mysterious locked door, Christine could not help but stop and press her ear to it - listening for anything that might give her a clue of what lay behind it. Yet no sound came and after a few moments she gave up and continued on. One day…and one day very soon, she would learn all the secrets that Summercrest was still hiding.

Once in her suite Christine rang for Meg to come attend to her and then spent the time before the maid's arrival contemplating her actions that day. She knew Erik had been startled by her sudden and unexpected show of affection, her taking his arm when Amir arrived as well as giving him flirtatious glances all evening. They had somehow hit a wall over the last few days, their progress towards marital affections having stagnated just a bit. Yet, she wished to somehow let him know that was not the way she wanted things to be. Christine knew in her heart that she had forgiven Erik for keeping the children a secret from her. The way he was with the twins, so kind and tender, had made her see him in a whole new light. Certainly he still possessed his foul temper and his air of mystery but underneath all that, Christine saw the true Erik emerging and it was _that_ man she wanted as her husband. The issue now was…did he still want her as his wife?

Erik had not seemed displeased by her physical contact, in fact just the opposite. If he still intended to continue his parallel actions with training her horse, that left her wondering what tonight might bring. She also found it quite shocking just how much she truly wanted to find out. While Christine was still unsure if she was completely ready to give herself over in that capacity…she decided that she might at least test the waters? Erik would be leaving in the morning and she had only tonight in order to make her new found feelings a bit more clear, hopefully giving him something to think about while he was away.

Meg arrived and helped her slip into her nightgown, one Christine had already chosen before she arrived. It was still very modest, as were the majority of her clothing, but this one was a bit more form fitting and shimmered so prettily in the candle light that she couldn't help but feel just a bit more…_feminine_ in it.

Once Meg left, Christine crawled into bed and sat up against the head board and waited. And waited….and waited.

.

.

Downstairs Erik was pouring Amir a second glass of scotch as he looked at the clock on the wall with a frown. _Was it truly that late already_?

"Not having more yourself?" Amir asked as he took the offered glass.

"No, one glass is enough for me," he said, recalling his promise to himself not to over indulge. "I am afraid I made a complete ass of myself the other night when I tried to find my courage in the bottom of a bottle. I will not be subjecting my innocent bride to the horrors of _that_ monster a second time."

"Oh?" Amir commented, his eyebrows now raised in question. "Just what kind of a monster did you turn into, pray tell?"

"Not the kind you are thinking," he chastised, not liking the look in his friend's eye. "So get your mind out of the cesspool it just crawled into and drink your scotch before I cut you off as well."

"I was only asking," Amir chuckled in defense, as he took a sip of the amber liquid. "Because, you know, Christine appeared to be much more…_relaxed_ around you today than she did the last time I was here."

"Yes…yes it did seem that way," Erik mused, sitting down in his chair and leaning his head back as he became lost in thought. Christine's actions that whole day had been delightfully confusing.

"Might I assume that you took my advice and have been implementing certain tactics to win her trust?" Amir asked.

"Ah ha!" Erik stated in an accusatory tone. "Then you admit it, you only brought over the mare to illustrate your idea that I try the same maneuvers on Christine."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Amir huffed, doing his very best to appear offended by his friend's words. "I am scandalized that you would assume my gift was anything but noble-minded. Shame on you Erik, you wound me."

"Not enough to be rid of you it would appear," Erik said with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh no, that would indeed take a miracle, my friend," Amir laughed, his bluster quickly gone. "But tell me, how is Christine taking to parenthood? She seems to have grown very fond of Robert and Amy, as well as they to her."

"Yes, Christine is a god-send in that respect," Erik agreed. "I have never seen the children so happy. It failed to occur to me that they would miss having a maternal figure in their lives, figuring that Rose and Madam Giry would be sufficient."

"Robert and Amy are young but they are not fools," Amir nodded. "They know the difference between someone hired to care for them and the unconditional love of a parent. Not that I doubt Rose and Antoinette's affection for the twins, but there is still a difference. As your wife, not a paid servant, Christine has the _choice_ to accept and love them or push them away. The children know that."

"Yet she has chosen to treat them as if they were her own," Erik assured him. "Seeing her with the twins has made me long for things I never thought possible…things I could not imagine having in this twisted world."

"What is that?" Amir asked, as if he didn't already know.

"That I want…a family. I want Christine to be mine in all aspects, not in name only, and I want children born of that union as well. Not because my father has threatened us or because it will gain me the deed to Summercrest, but for no other reason than I _want _them. I want it all, Amir…and I want it with Christine," Erik said breathlessly as he stared off, not focusing on anything except his desired future.

"Well, all I can say is, _it's about bloody time_," Amir laughed. "And here I was beginning to worry that you would never figure that out on your own." The narrow-eyed stare Erik gave him over his statement only made the Persian laugh harder. "So now you have her, this ideal wife, and she is all any man could dream of…beautiful, kind, loving and more forgiving then a sorry sod like you deserves. Yet, you are down here drinking with me instead of upstairs devouring her like the beast you claim to be? Am I missing something here?"

Erik quickly averted his eyes, not wishing for his friend to see the shame and embarrassment that flashed forth. It only took a total of five heartbeats for the Persian to guess the truth.

"_You have not slept with her yet_?!" Amir all but shouted, sitting up straight as his eyes grew wide.

"Would you care to repeat that a bit louder?" Erik hissed, his displeasure for his friend very evident. "I do not think one or two of the maids in the kitchen heard you!"

"Forgive me, my friend," Amir apologized, lowering his voice as he sat back in wonder. "I know I suggested you take things slowly but good gracious man, this is positively glacial!"

"We share a room…and a bed, but thus far I have not demanded my husbandly rights. She is not ready," Erik insisted, attempting to explain. "She was raised in a bloody convent for heaven's sake! She knows nothing of the physical pleasures and the whole idea still frightens her. If I were to rush her into accepting her matrimonial duties too quickly I might terrify her and then how would I ever gain her trust and acceptance."

"You mean gain her _love_," his friend corrected, expertly reading between the lines.

"Love?" Erik scoffed. "Love is not an option for men who look the way I do. Or have you forgotten what lies beneath this mask?"

"I have not forgotten," Amir assured him, the sight of his friends face forever burned into his mind. "Yet with time, I hope that you can come to accept that you do not always have to isolate yourself like you do. Christine is your chance. Do not ruin it by overthinking things and pushing her away."

"I will not force myself upon her when she is unwilling," Erik said forcefully. "I won't!"

"No, you would never do that and I of all people know the reason why," Amir assured him. "But do not let the tragedy that happened with Emily forever ruin your chances for happiness with Christine. This is not the same situation at all."

"A part of me knows you speak the truth," Erik admitted, burying his face in his hands. "Yet the guilt has never left me and it eats at me night and day until I feel completely hallow inside."

"Then let that hope for the life you wish to find with Christine fill that void, let her show you the path back to the land of the living. Cease being a ghost in your own home and recognize what you have right in front of you. Let her lead you to happiness… and yes, possibly even to love."

Erik was quiet for a long time and Amir picked up his drink and set it down several times before he chose to break the silence.

"I did notice…" the Persian began. "That even though the children obviously adore Christine…they do not address her as mother. Why?"

Erik sat up, removing his head from his hands and looked at Amir with sadness.

"They wish to, believe me, they even asked to do so the first night," Erik revealed with a heavy sigh. "Yet, I…I can't seem to allow it. Not yet. I just can't give up hope that maybe…" he let his voice trail off, his eyes growing sad at the thought.

"I know," Amir nodded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands over his face in frustration and grief. "I pray every night that it was different, that something might change and she will return to us."

"I have long given up on wishing for miracles," Erik said sadly. "And yet…now that Christine has come into my life…perhaps as you said, there might yet be one or two of them out there to be had."

"She truly has changed _you_ for the better," his friend agreed, his playful grin returning to his face. "If that is not a miraculous turn of events, I do not know what is. In fact I was extremely shocked to have only counted nine death threats from you tonight."

"Only nine…I really must be slipping," Erik laughed. He then stood and stretched, trying to relieve some of the soreness in his tight muscles. "I think it is time for bed, we have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow and I feel the need to spend some time with my wife before I am torn from her side."

"You do not have to go," Amir reminded him. "No one would fault you for declining this year, seeing as how you are so newly married."

"I _am_ tempted to stay," Erik confessed. "If only to keep my inquisitive little bride out of trouble. Yet the servants and their families count on the meat I bring home from the hunt and the winter has been a bit lean in that department. It would be selfish of me to pass up the hunt due to my own desires and fears of discovery. I will just instruct Madam Giry to be on high alert. Although I believe that the children have the capability of keeping Christine's attention focused on them and not any of my other secrets."

"Well, here's hoping," Amir said, picking up his glass and downing the last of this drink before the two of them left the study and headed upstairs.

.

.

Erik entered their room as quietly as possible, not sure if he would find his wife waiting up for him or long since gone to sleep. The silence of the room and the lump in the bed told him it was the latter. He berated himself for bothering with Amir for so long, wasting his precious time with Christine, especially just before leaving on a trip. And yet…this might work out to his advantage.

Doing his best not to make any noise, he changed out of his clothes and donned into his sleeping attire before gently pulling back the covers and slipping inside next to her. Very slowly, so as not to startle her he eased himself into a position right next to her, his entire front now pressed tenderly to her back. He folded his left arm under his head, propping it up slightly as he let his other hand sneak forward, coming to rest on her right side. It was a feather light touch at first but when he saw that she had remained asleep and was not startled by the liberties he was taking, Erik allowed his hand to slink further until he was now holding her firmly around her dainty midsection. Yes, _this_ was what he had been aiming for. Just as he had introduced the mare to the feel of the saddle blanket today, he was now hoping to introduce Christine to the feel of him beside her in bed, touching her and holding her close. It seemed so very right to him…he could only hope she felt the same way.

Christine had remained awake as long as she could but at last she had succumbed to the insistence of sleep and snuggled down under the covers. It did not feel as if she had been asleep long when she became aware of some pressure resting on her middle and she struggled to open her eyes and locate the source. When she was awake enough to realize it was a hand, attached to a very male arm, she instantly began to panic.

"Hush now, my little daisy," Erik whispered in her ear when he felt her start to squirm. "It is only me."

This revelation did ease Christine's alarm…but only somewhat. Even if it was Erik, he was still holding her in a very intimate embrace and she was not all together sure of his intentions.

"Erik?" she asked, her voice still holding a hint of fear.

"Yes, Christine," he once more affirmed, relieved when her struggles ceased and her breathing calmed. "Shhhhh, go back to sleep. I only wish to hold you tonight, nothing more." He hoped his assurance would be enough to put her at ease and not have her fearing he would be expecting more this night. No…all he wanted was to feel her near him, to drink in her scent as he molded his body to hers.

"Why...?" came her meek question in the dark.

_Why_? He chuckled to himself. She had to ask _why_?

"Is it improper for a husband to want to lie beside his wife?" Erik asked, leaning forward a bit so that his lips were now almost touching her ear, his warm breath causing shivers to race down the length of her spine. "Is it unthinkable that I would wish to run my hands across your skin? Skin so soft that I do not know where it ends and the satin of your gown begins." To emphasize his point he let his hand begin a slow path up her side until it reached her bare shoulder, then followed it down the length of her arm, stopping when he reached her small hand. Gripping it in his much larger one, he then began to rub circles over her knuckles with his thumb, all the while taking note that she had not pulled away or asked him to stop. "I am forced to endure the daylight hours hardly touching you, always keeping strict propriety. You can't expect me to do the same in the confines of our shared bed as well, can you?"

Christine swallowed hard, doing her best to keep her voice calm as she choked out an answer to him.

"N-n-no," she whispered back. "I suppose not."

"I am not asking for more than this, Christine," he continued, doing his best to instill trust in her, as his hand left hers and venture up to her face. He lightly brushed the back of his knuckles down her right cheek and then across her jawline as his thumb now teased the soft pink lips he so dearly longed to kiss. "Every part of you is soft, my innocent little flower," Erik continued, his voice deep and husky with the evidence of his arousal. "At times like this, I find it almost too much to resist and I am forced to surrender to the desires of my hands…to be allowed to feel such perfection."

Christine's heart was pounding now, she could sense each and every beat as it boomed inside her chest. How could the mere touch of his hand send her into such a state of both confusion and delight? He had to know exactly what he was doing to her, to her mind and her body. _He must!_

Erik could feel every shudder she made, hear every gasp for breath as his hands continued…and he reveled in it. She was not immune to his touch, deep down she longed for it just as much as he wished to give it. Well, perhaps not _quite as much_, but she _did_ yearn, of that he was certain.

His fingers had now begun their descent back down her body, tracing the peaks and valleys of her silhouette, from her shoulder to her hip. Yet his hand halted there, not wishing to delve any further for fear he startle her and break this enchanted moment they now found themselves in. He had only planned on showing her that being held and touched was nothing to be afraid of. If he continued on, he would nullify that and possibly do irrevocable damage to her ability to trust him. So instead of letting his hand roam lower, he brought it back up to her waist and slid it protectively around her, pulling her just a hair closer to him.

"Now close your eyes, Christine, and sleep," he directed once more with a gentle whisper into her ear. "Nothing can harm you while you reside in my arms."

Christine did just as he directed, enjoying the feeling of him pressed against her more than she cared to admit. He was warm and strong, his arm around her like a velvet vice, unyielding and yet feather light. She did feel safe in his embrace; as if not even her nightmares could touch her if he was there. She could feel his breath as it gently moved through her hair and she snuggled back towards him just a bit more as she let her own arm move to cover his. Lacing her fingers through his and giving a gentle squeeze, she released a contented sigh.

So…_this_ was what it felt like to be a cherished wife.

.

.

**Ummmm, is it a bit hot in here? I think I will open a window...**

**Amir is so much fun!**

**So they are getting closer...too bad he is leaving in the morning. Well, lets see if we can throw in a few more hints and startling revelations before he leaves to keep you guessing, OK? Tune in Sunday for more fun and adventure!**


	20. Chapter 20

.

**Guest reviews:**

**Melstrife:** I KNOW...who _doesn't_ love a good smut-light moment? And yes, locked doors can only keep a person out for so long...then they MUST get in. Joseph is still a concern, that is for sure. But really, who SAYS something horrible will happen while Erik is gone? I mean something GOOD could happen...right? Well, there is always a chance...

.

**Now lets go see what new puzzle piece I can toss in here to make you all go...WHAT? hee hee.**

.

**Chapter 20**

.

.

Erik woke slowly, allowing his senses to acclimate him to his surroundings one by one. First there was the sense of touch, immediately alerting him to the fact that something was different. He was lying on his back…but _someone_ was resting their head on his chest! However, his sense of smell told him exactly who that _someone_ was, giving away her identity by the enticing aroma of lavender and honeysuckle he always associated with Christine. Lastly he opened his eyes and let his sense of sight confirm what he already knew - yet still found difficult to believe. There before him was his delicate little wife, tucked warmly at his side, utilizing his chest as her pillow. Her left arm was flung across his torso, holding him just as tightly as he had held her the previous night.

He knew this was not the first time he had woke to find her in this position but the last time it had been a traumatic nightmare that had driven her to seek out his comfort. Yet, last night there had been no dreams, no such fears, leaving him to conclude that the only reason she was now holding him stemmed from her sole wish to do so. And this brought a wide smile to his lips.

Erik recalled the way she had touched his hand and snuggled in closer to him just before she let sleep claim her. While he, on the other hand, had lain awake for a long time, relishing the feel of her and doing all he could to remain still. Determined to hold himself to his promise not to ask for more. It was a monumental task, to be sure, but he managed.

Erik could see that the sun had just risen over the hill, announcing the hour and the fact that he would soon have to leave Summercrest and the precious girl he held in his arms. For the hundredth time he cursed the fact that he felt completely obligated to go on this blasted hunting trip. He was tempted to buy each family under his care their own cow to butcher and eat if it meant he could stay in this bed with her all day. Yet he knew it was not meant to be…_at least not this day_.

Erik noticed that Christine was stirring and moved his head so that he could watch her face as she woke, hoping to gauge her reaction when she discovered her current position. He prayed that it would be a pleasant surprise, like it had been for him, and not a shock. He smiled to himself as he felt her stretch her legs, wiggling her tiny toes slightly, just before she let out one last adorable yawn and opened her eyes.

.

Christine blinked twice, focusing on what lay directly in her line of sight.

A button?

_How strange_, she thought to herself, _she did not recall her pillow having buttons_. She then realized that the pillow she fell asleep on had neither been made of fine black fabric nor did it have a heartbeat or the ability to breath. Lifting up her head quickly, Christine stared into the golden, and very much amused, eyes of her husband.

"Good morning, my little daisy," he almost purred, his voice causing the vibration to carry into her through the hand that still rested on his black clad chest.

"Good…good morning, Erik," she stammered, her face growing hot with embarrassment over the close proximity she was to him. And yet…she did not regret it for one moment and it appeared that he did not find it offensive either. She quickly recalled his request to touch her the night before and how much pleasure those simple brushes against her skin had afforded her. As she let those feelings wash over her once again, it emboldened her to wish to take a few liberties of her own. So, to Erik's obvious surprise, instead of extracting herself from his embrace, she instead curled back up into her former position and laid her head back on his chest.

"Well now," Erik whispered, a bit in shock at her actions. "This is quite unexpected."

"Why?" she asked, trying desperately to keep any hint of fear from her tone. "Is it improper for a wife to wish to lay beside her husband?" She hoped he recalled that those were the exact words he had used on her the previous night and from the deep and throaty laugh that issued forth, she knew he had.

"Touché, my dear," he said once his humor was reduced to a pleasant chuckle. "You have caught me in my own web of words. I am your hapless victim and shall gladly do thy bidding."

"And yet…" she began, her voice turning sad. "You will still leave today to go hunting, even if I were to ask you to stay." She let her hand slip over and begin to play with the button in front of her, focusing her attention on it to keep her sadness at bay.

"I would not go…if you truly wished it," Erik unexpectedly promised her, causing Christine to rise up once more and look him directly in the eye.

"You wouldn't?" she asked, a bit shocked as well as immensely pleased.

Erik reached up and brushed the hair from out of her eyes, tucking the loose strands behind her left ear.

"Just say the word," he whispered.

Christine longed to do just that, to beg him to remain with her and the children…and yet she knew she couldn't. Not because she didn't desire it beyond reason but as the mistress of Summercrest she needed to put the welfare of tenants before her own…just like Erik did. She knew the only reason he went on this yearly trip was to help the servants and local residents of the estate restock their food supplies. In fact, Amir had even offered to contribute most of whatever game he killed to those who depended on Erik as well - seeing how his estate was small and supported only a few servants who worked in the house.

"No…it would be selfish of me to do so," she told him, lowering her head a bit in disappointment. "I know why you must go and I admire you for the reasons behind the trip."

"And yet you wish me to stay?" Erik asked, tipping her chin upwards so that he could see her beautiful eyes once more. "Would you…_miss_ me when I go?"

"I…I would," she confirmed, blushing once more by her admission.

"Oh Christine," Erik groaned, laying his head back against the pillow and looking upwards as he flung his arm across his masked face. "Your words have put me in great conflict with my sense of duty. If others were not counting on the spoils of this hunting trip I would cater to your tempting request and gladly remain here with you."

"Yet you cannot. You must continue as planned and go with Amir," she insisted, her expression revealing her determination. "For he would be sorely disappointed if you backed out on him at such a late date. Yet…it pleases me greatly to know that you would otherwise willingly fulfill my request," she added, a playful smile coming to her lips.

Erik moved his arm just enough to look at her once more, enjoying her bright and expressive eyes as she watched him.

"Just as it pleases me that you wish to _make_ such a request," he assured her.

Christine once more lay back down, running her hand over his chest, tracing lazy circles over the fabric that hid his toned muscles from her view.

"But…if you _were_ able to stay…" she asked tentatively. "If you did not have to go hunting…what…what might you have planned for the day?"

Erik opened his mouth to speak, ready to enchant her with all sorts of fun activities, both in and outside the bedroom, but all his words failed him when he felt her small fingers find a specific spot beneath his shirt. Erik instantly froze.

Christine had been running her hand up and down Erik's chest but when she moved her fingers a bit to the right she grazed over something odd. It felt like a slightly raised mound of flesh, traveling from the his top rib down to his right side and continuing to reach around towards his back. She went to sit up, wishing to inspect it further, when his hand shot out – grabbing her wrist and pulling it away from his chest as if her fingers had burned him.

They stayed in that position for what seemed an eternity, both staring at each other with fear and confusion in their eyes. At last Erik spoke, his voice unsteady as he did his best to cover over the panic that had taken him.

"Forgive me, Christine," he said, quickly releasing her and slipping out from under her as he stood up. "It would appear that you have discovered one of my best kept secrets." He did his best to force a laugh, trying to make light of what had just happened. "The secret that…that I am extremely ticklish on that particular rib."

Christine could tell that Erik was highly agitated and could not seem to escape from her reach fast enough. Whatever he was hiding beneath his shirt had him spooked and she couldn't help but want to know why. It had felt like a very long and very deep scar. Any wound that would leave behind such a noticeable mark must have been very painful and potentially lethal. However, Erik seemed quite reluctant, even afraid, to admit to its existence…why?

It was then that Christine realized that she had never seen her husband without his shirt before. He had always been very careful to dress and undress in the water closet or bathing room, out of her sight. Christine had resigned herself to the fact that he did not wish for her to see his face, to know what lay beneath the mask he wore. But she had never considered that he might desire to hide his body from her as well. What kind of marriage had she landed herself in if she could never look upon the true form of her husband – forever denied the sight of him?

"Erik I am sorry if I upset you, but I…" she began, sitting up until she was kneeling on the bed but he cut her off in mid-sentence.

"No, it is I who am sorry," he said, holding up his hand in protest. "Sorry that I must get ready to leave. If I do not hurry I fear that Amir will take off without me. He can be rather impatient, you know." Turning away as if he could no longer stand the sight of her, Erik strode over to his wardrobe and retrieved a handful of clothes before heading for the bathing room. "I will exit through the servant's door so you may call for Meg and dress in privacy. I will see you downstairs to say goodbye to the children before I go." And with that he was gone, shutting the door firmly behind him.

.

.

Erik removed his mask and brought several handfuls of cold water to his face, rubbing vigorously in hopes of calming his nerves. He braced his hands on either side of the small table that held the basin, staring down into the water as drops from his face and hair made ripples in it. Slowly, he lifted his head until he was staring fully into the mirror in front of him.

_Hideous…absolutely hideous_, was all he could think.

Erik had managed to avoid looking in a mirror without his mask in place for a quite a long time. Yet his reflection had not changed, he was still a monster. He had learned quickly how to shave each morning by only the use of touch, doing all he could to avoid the sight of himself. It was easier to forget what he looked like, what had happened to him, if he was not forced to remember on a daily basis. The mask was now more a part of him than perhaps his arms or legs and he needed it in order to function…to exist. For without it he would be an outcast, a hideous beast that people would fear and mock. He had grown good at hiding his shame, his humiliation…and his sins.

With hands that still shook he reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, deliberately not taking his eyes off his face until it was fully removed. Then, with his stomach churning in disgust, he let his gaze fall upon his ruined flesh. The scars that covered his body were nothing short of a travesty, a map of pain and degradation that he would be cursed with for the rest of his life. He ran his hand across the deepest of them all, the very one Christine had touched through his night shirt. It had almost cost him his life. Must it cost him her affections as well? He turned slightly, wincing as he caught sight of the mutilation that continued its way across his back, looking worse than his front, if that was even possible.

What had he been thinking? Amir's words of encouragement, coupled with his own childish fantasies, had lulled him into a dream world that could never be. How could he even imagine that an innocent flower such as Christine could come to look upon him with anything but disgust? He might be her husband by law, but it was ludicrous to think that it could ever be more than platonic. He could never come to her as a real man, whole and in the light of day. No, if he were to ever share the intimacies of the bed with her, it would be under the cover of darkness, always praying that she would not see…or feel…what he strove so hard to hide.

Angry with himself and the world that had cursed him, he swept his hand across the table, dashing the water filled basin to the floor with a loud crash. He quickly grabbed his fresh shirt and trousers and put them on before heading out the servant's exit and down the stairs. Perhaps some time away from Summercrest and Christine would help him realize exactly what his limitations were. Monsters were not supposed to dream… _monsters were not supposed to love_.

.

.

Christine was silent while dressing, Meg asking her several times what was bothering her due to her unusual behavior. Each time she had brushed it off as simply concern over Erik's pending absence, which was not entirely false. She did worry for him, for his safety as well as the dark and foreboding mood he had slipped into as he left the room. What was he hiding from her? Was she destined to be a wife who never truly knew the man she married? The very idea left a knot in the pit of her stomach.

The previous night had been so wonderful, beginning with his holding her while she fell asleep and ending with them waking in each other's arms. Christine was at last starting to believe her feelings for Erik were blossoming into something that she could act upon. Yet, in the space of a moment, and an innocent touch, it had all been snatched away from her. He was hiding more from her than his face and it broke her heart that he felt he needed to keep it from her. Was he afraid she would spurn him? Afraid that she would see him as less than a man if she saw what it was he hid? She had to find a way to show him otherwise, that she _could_ have feelings for him regardless of what he thought. Christine vowed to make him understand that she would not run at the first sight of trouble or hardship. She had accepted his children, not asking any further questions about their mysterious mother, had she not? Could he not also put his faith in her in this instance? She could only pray that one day the answer would be _yes_.

When Christine came down the stairs Erik and Amir were standing in the entryway, the two children pelting their Persian uncle with questions about the trip while Erik was speaking quietly with Madam Giry. As she approached the twins broke off talking to Amir and ran to her side, pulling on her hands in order to hurry her along, not wanting her to miss out on saying farewell.

"We thought you would never come down," Amy lamented.

"Papa and Uncle Amir were about to leave," Robert explained, obviously assuming that Christine was unaware of this.

"Will you be gone long, Papa?" Amy asked, taking a step forward and placing her hands behind her back as she tipped her inquisitive eyes up towards his face.

"Not long, precious," he assured her, cupping her chin as he gave her a wink. "Your uncle and I will be back tomorrow afternoon - early evening at the latest."

"Will you bring back a deer?" the boy persisted.

"Maybe even two," Amir laughed, knowing that even if he did not manage to down any game, Erik was a crack shot and never missed.

"I want to go too!" Robert cried, hopping up and down on his little toes anxiously. "I am a big boy now, I can help by taking care of the horses while you hunt." It was obvious that his mind was still fixated with the large, magnificent animals. "I will be very quiet and I don't eat a lot!"

"But if you came with me, who would stay behind and take care of Amy and Christine?" Erik asked, kneeling down in front of the eager lad. "I need someone I can trust to remain at Summercrest to protect the womenfolk."

"Mr. Bower can do it," Robert suggested, not one to be swayed easily from his one track mind.

"Nay, young master," the butler replied, having come up behind them all just then and hearing the boy's words. "I have far too many duties as it is to be taking on such an important task as that. I think your father is correct in giving you the job." He then handed each man a tweed hunting jacket and a satchel containing provisions for the road, seeing as how they were leaving before they could have breakfast.

"All right," Robert agreed with a heavy sigh. "But next time Uncle Amir should stay home so I can go."

"It is a deal, lad," Amir laughed, as he reached down and ruffled his hair good-naturedly.

"Now, come tell me goodbye," Erik told him, holding out his arms as the boy flung himself into them. He hugged him tightly and gave him a kiss on his chubby little cheek before releasing him and turning to Amy, plying her with the same attention.

Christine had been watching all this in silence, not knowing exactly what to say. Yet, as he released the children and stood up she found her heart was able to conjure the words her mind could not.

"Do you have a farewell kiss for your wife as well?" she asked, causing all three adults to cast looks of shock and surprise at the two of them.

Erik stood there for a moment, unable to think of a proper response. Christine had never asked for such a thing before…he had not even imagined that she was capable of being so bold. Yet how could he deny her innocent request and pleading eyes? So forgetting all his destructive thoughts in front of the mirror, he took a step closer and encircled her around the waist with one hand, pulling her to him while the second tipped her chin up. He paused only a second, watching as her eyes fluttered closed, before bringing his lips down on hers.

Christine felt so brazen in her request, yet her whole mind and body was screaming out for her to not let him leave without some hint of her emotions. When she saw he intended to grant her request, she closed her eyes, praying that he would span the final inches that separated them and spare her the effort of mustering the courage to go any further. When she felt his warm breath so near her she prepared herself for the kiss, parting her lips slightly in anticipation. Erik did not disappoint.

Erik had kissed Christine a total of five times; the first had been when he had thought she was a spy, the second time when they were pronounced man and wife, the third on their wedding night and the fourth being when he was quite drunk. The quick peck she had given him the night before discovering the children brought the total to five – five intimate expressions of feelings and emotions. Some of those emotions had been a mixture of anger, desperation, fear…and lust. But this one, this kiss was all about tenderness and exploration, for when their lips touched each was searching for its true meaning.

Erik had intended to keep the kiss feather light, not wanting to take it further for fear of scaring her away with his overwhelming passion. But when her own little arms came up and wove themselves around his neck, pulling him closer he could not seem to help himself. He was immediately swept back to the moment of their first meeting and that overpowering need he had felt when he first tasted her lips. Yet this time she was not some random maid, she was his wife…and to his infinite pleasure, this time she was responding back with vigor.

When the kiss ended, they both continued to stare at one another, not breaking their hold, hardly even daring to breathe. Erik could tell that they had somehow reached a turning point, for not only did his innocent little wife not pull away from him during his quite intense overture…she had been the one to request it. _Why on earth was he now thinking of leaving her_?

"Please be careful," Christine whispered, her voice both low and breathy.

"I…" Erik began but found that there truly were no words…none.

"You know, if we delay any further, all the stags will die of old age long before we can shoot any of them," Amir said from behind him, clearing his throat in hopes of moving things along.

"Yes, you best go," Christine nodded, averting her eyes in embarrassment when she remembered they had quite the audience to their private moment. "The quicker you leave, the sooner you will be back."

"And I will be back, Christine," Erik assured her, touching her face once more as if he still could not believe that she was real. "I promise."

"Yes, yes, sentiments and platitudes," Amir grumbled as he grabbed hold of Erik's arm and pulled the reluctant man towards the door. "If all goodbyes took this long, no one would ever leave their homes, now would they?" He turned back to Christine and gave her a friendly wave. "Enjoy your time alone and only concern yourself with the children. I will take good care of Erik for you, my lady."

"See that you do," Christine laughed, taking Robert and Amy by the hand as they followed the two men outside to watch as they mounted their awaiting steeds.

Amir quickly kicked his heals and his horse took off down the drive, but Erik hesitated a few moments more, his eyes locked on the bright smile of his wife.

_It was going to be a very long day and a half. _

And on that thought he too urged Phantom into motion and rode away, quickly passing Amir as the two men disappeared from sight.

.

.

**Well THAT was a nice goodbye! One that will keep him thinking about the next Hello!**

**Soooo, what do you think about Erik's revelation? How do you think he came to be that way? What happened? You know I will tell you eventually, but for now you have to wait. sorry.**

**So how is the story going? Is their relationship progressing at a nice pace for you? Now lets see what our little Pandora will do while Erik is gone. When the cats away, the mice will play...maybe.**

**PS...has everyone heard about the Phantomcon in Richmond, Virgina in 2015? Google it and check it out. I would love to go...but can't. However, I know of some wonderful FF authors that ARE going. Lucky ducks!  
**


	21. Chapter 21

.

**Why the early post? You have fisheep423 and all my readers from China to thank for this one. It is my way of saying thank you for their readership and perhaps a slight bribe to tempt them into reviewing...hee hee. So enjoy!**

.

**Guest Reviews**

**.**

**Melstrife:** Oh no, out comes the frying pan again! Well, Erik deserves it. I think Christine did a pretty good job of making him think long and hard about that kiss while he is hunting! Oh good idea...use the frying pan on Joseph! Nice guesses as to how Erik got injured. You will see if you are right later. You know we could have an easier kind of conversation if you would just get an account and sign in, ha ha. Looks like both you and I will not be going to the 'ball', us poor Cinderellas. :( As for your dark suggestion of Erik's wounds being self inflicted...nope, couldn't be farther from the truth. Oh and you asked why sometimes the guest reviews don't show up right away? ...well, that is because I am lazy. Your wonderful reviews come directly to my mail box and I read each and every one of them right away. But unless I physically go into my FF account and click on the "send up to the site" button, all guest reviews are held back for two days until they automatically get sent up. I guess I need to be more pro-active in doing that. I really do appreciate every guest review I get! REALLY!

**Guest:** I am glad you think so and I thank you for your kind words.

.

**Now lets see what Christine will do once Erik is off hunting. What COULD she find to occupy her time...what could it be? hee hee.**

**.**

**Chapter 21**

**.**

**.**

Christine stood there for quite some time, even after they were long gone, thinking about what had just transpired between her and Erik. Little by little she found herself not only learning to trust him…but to care for him as well. Yes he had his oddities, the mask and his aversion to baring his flesh to her being at the top of her list. Yet even with that, Christine knew she was developing feelings for her husband. She had not expected this when they had wed, thinking that she would be bound to a loveless marriage, one of loneliness and solitude – and at the time that idea had almost appealed to her. But now…now she wanted more and it appeared that Erik was willing to give it to her, if she only asked.

She looked down and watched as Robert and Amy ran around in front of her, having grown bored with her silent contemplations and were now chasing a little white butterfly. Christine could no longer imagine her life without Erik and his two amazing children, the very notion now inconceivable. She had miraculously found happiness here, a sense of purpose…_a home_. However, thus far, it remained a surface joy. Yet with the speaking of a few words Christine knew she could have so much more. Many married couples had managed to find love, even those brought together under similar circumstances as she and Erik. Amir's parents being an example of this. Why couldn't she have that as well? Why couldn't her feelings grow and blossom into deep affection, resulting in not only her own happiness, but perhaps offering Erik a measure of joy as well. Yes, she would take this time apart to build up her courage and when he returned, she would inform him of her decision – that she would like to become his wife in every sense of the word.

"Christine," Robert's voice broke through her thoughts. "Can we go see the horses again? Can we please?"

"Yes, we can," she smiled, making the boy jump for joy. "But first we must all go in and eat breakfast or Madam Giry will be cross with us."

This delay was met with some words of complaint but without too much trouble the three of them were soon seated around the dining table, enjoying a morning feast. Christine did her best to lavish the children with her full attention, realizing that in Erik's absence, she was now their primary caregiver and role model. She never wanted them to doubt her love and commitment to them, to always know they were accepted and wanted by her, just like their father.

After they were finished eating Robert immediately reminded her of the promise she had made to go see the horses, and so out they went. While Amy was still pleased with the novelty of the large animals, it was obvious that little Robert was now obsessed. He asked so many questions about the horses, many of them Christine had to admit not knowing the answer to, proving that this was not a subject he would quickly tire of. She found that she hoped Erik would indeed see fit to get the boy his own horse as soon as possible, for until then Christine feared there would be no peace at Summercrest.

They spent most of an hour in the stables, petting Angel and feeding her handfuls of oats before Amy got bored and insisted they do something else. Robert protested, saying she could leave but he intended to stay, which almost caused an argument to ensue. Christine was able to step in and offer a compromise, suggesting they search out other forms of entertainment with the promise to come back once more to watch the horses get fed their evening meal. This pleased Robert very much and he was then quite amiable to exit the stables.

However as they were leaving Christine was brought up short by the sight of Joseph entering through the two large doors, his arms laden down by the saddle he was carrying. She had purposefully been avoiding this man ever since the arrival of Angel and she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand straight on end as he drew near.

"Well this is a rare treat, indeed," he drawled, his yellow teeth showing as he gave her that unnerving smile of his. "What brings the mistress of the house here to the stables while the master is away?"

Christine felt ice run through her veins at the sound of his voice, as well as the way he had purposefully mentioned the absence of Erik, putting her on edge. Without realizing that she was doing it, she gently pushed the two children behind her, the protective instinct of a mother bear defending her cubs coming to the fore. But not sensing the danger like she did, Robert side stepped her urgings and spoke up boldly.

"We came to visit the horses," he told the man, seeing no reason for him to be wary of a servant hired by his father.

"Did you now," Joseph asked, looking down at the boy with a measure of surprise and curiosity. "And who might you be, young fella?"

Christine placed her hand on Roberts shoulder, doing her best to pull him back without appearing alarmed – even if she was. Yet the boy would not be silenced.

"I am Robert," he replied proudly.

"A pleasure to meet you, Robert," Joseph nodded, then turned to the little girl who had the good sense to be hiding behind Christine's skirts in the presence of the questionable man. "And what is your name, little miss?"

Amy never had a chance to respond, for at the utterance of the man's last words Christine suddenly became very light headed, everything began to spin and she felt as if she were about to faint. She did her best to not let it show but her vision began to narrow and all she could hear was a loud ringing in her ears. Moments before she felt her knees give way she reached behind her and grabbed hold of the first thing she could find to steady herself. As if from a distance she could faintly hear both Amy and Robert calling her name, their tone revealing deep concern for her sudden turn in health. Yet out of nowhere, a pair of hands grabbed hold of her, offering the stability she needed to remain standing. But the idea that those hands might belong to Joseph made Christine desperately fight her way back to lucidity.

"My lady, are you not feeling well?" the voice of the one holding her up asked, pulling her attention towards his face. When she was able to focus at last, she saw that it was not Joseph holding her after all…it was Peter. "Do you wish for me to go fetch one of the ladies from the house to assist you?"

"No…no, I am fine," she assured him, her vision returning to normal and the ringing in her ears beginning to fade. Joseph was still there, standing in front of her with an even more quizzical look on his face, the saddle still in his hands. Peter had come from nowhere and saved her from taking a fall. When she was feeling better Christine would make a point of thanking him properly but right now all she wanted to do was get out of there as fast as she could. "I must have become overheated is all," she lied, doing her best to regain her composure. "Once I am back out in the fresh air I will be just fine."

"Would you like me to escort you, my lady?" Peter persisted, the genuine concern in his eyes was touching.

"Thank you again, but no," by now she was feeling much better, the young man's presence being just the buffer she needed to stem the tide of unease she had been feeling. She looked down at the children and took their hands, willing them to follow her. "Come, I think we spoke of taking a walk in the gardens?" And with a final nod of thanks to Peter, they left the stables and her unease behind.

The further away they got, the better she felt, until whatever it was that had caused her to become faint was just an unpleasant memory. Thankfully the children were an easy distraction and soon she was laughing once more, enjoying the day and their company. Their stroll took them towards the walled-in garden Erik had showed her a few days ago and she was eager to share it with Robert and Amy. As expected the children were fascinated by the fairy tale garden with all the little stone statues and especially the rope swing. She of course forbid them to use it, showing them that it was far too old and would not hold even their slight weight should they attempt to sit on it. But their interest in the garden gave her an idea. Leaving the two children to safely explore, she exited the garden and looked around, quickly spotting one of the gardeners pruning nearby. Calling him over she took him back inside and began the long conversation needed to ascertain what could be done to fix up the neglected area.

Within no time the one man had called in some of his associates and they began to clear out much of the dead brush and overgrown weeds. Robert and Amy entertained themselves with scraping off moss and leaves from the stone rabbits and mushrooms that were scattered around for decoration. Each time a new little figurine was found, the two children would squeal with glee and quickly clean it off. This went on for some time before the children lost interest and wished to do something else, leaving the three gardeners to continue their work undisturbed. They promised they would have the dead things removed as well as the rope swing replaced by the following day, also agreeing to locate some flower bulbs at Christine's request. She had always enjoyed gardening and thought perhaps allowing the children to plant them personally could foster the same love for growing things in them. With the promise to return the next morning, Christine took the children and headed back inside the manor, wondering what she might entertain them with next.

Once inside Madam Giry informed her that lunch was almost ready and Christine asked that it be brought to the children's room since both of them were showing signs of needing a nap. Despite their adamant insistence that neither one was the least bit sleepy, once their tummies were full, they both settled in quite peacefully for their afternoon rest.

While they slept, Christine sought out Madam Giry in hopes of discussing the following evening's dinner plans with her. Christine wanted to have a special meal prepared for the victorious hunters when they returned. While she did not doubt that Erik and Amir would acquire the desired game, she was uncertain if they would be able to partake of the meat so soon. Didn't such large prey need to be properly hung and then butchered? As a result, one of the servants was sent to the market to fetch a wild turkey; a meal that Madam Giry insisted would be fit for the conquering heroes.

Before she knew it, the children had risen from their nap and were once again looking to her for entertainment. Since both of them knew very little about the house, much like Christine herself, they found her suggestion to go exploring very intriguing. While Christine knew the one place that she would like nothing more than to poke her nose around, she instead let the children choose the direction of their adventure. Several rooms in the west wing fell victim to their investigation and yet failed to turn up anything of interest. It was not till they passed the stairs that led to the attic that Christine chose to steer the children in a direction _she_ desired. Erik had not shown her the area when he was giving her the tour but neither did he forbid her to go there. He had only sited dust and clutter as the reasons to avoid the area and a little mess did not frighten her. So after locating an oil lamp, the three made their way up and pushed open the creaky old door, peering inside.

Erik had been correct, the place certainly had been neglected, with dust and cobwebs on every surface and corner. This did not deter the children however, as they scampered forward, looking at objects and pulling sheets off of long forgotten boxes and furniture.

When Christine discovered an ornate floor length mirror in the corner she took a moment to examine her reflections. Was it her imagination or did she appear to have matured since she last gazed upon her entire form? She wondered if Erik would mind her bringing the mirror down and placing it in their room, wondering why such a fine piece was hidden away in the attic. It then occurred to her that she knew of only two other mirrors in the whole house. There was a small one in their bathing room while the second hung over her dressing table. Yet nowhere could she recall seeing a full length one and upon further contemplation, the reason became painfully clear. Erik did not care for his appearance. While he was always impeccably dressed, his hair neat and tidy and obviously no stranger to soap and water, her husband did not enjoy _looking_ at himself. Neither did he appear to want anyone else to stare at him either. His almost panicked state when she had felt the scar beneath his shirt that morning had attested to this. No, she would not ask Erik if the mirror could be placed in their room, she did not want to upset him further on the subject.

"Christine, come look!" Robert called from behind her, causing her to cover the mirror once again with a heavy sigh.

When she made her way over to where the boy stood she could see what it was that had him so excited. It was a large painting, the people depicted upon the canvas were almost life size. There was no doubt in Christine's mind of who she was looking at, the resemblance made it quite clear.

"Who are they?" Amy asked, tilting her head a bit as she studied the painting.

"It would appear to be your father when he was much younger and the two others are _his _mother and father – your grandparents," Christine informed them, reaching out to brush away some of the cobwebs that covered the work of art.

"That's Papa?" Robert asked in shock, obviously surprised at the notion that their father had ever been anything but the imposing figure he was now.

"Yes, once upon a time he was young just like you," Christine laughed, thinking that he looked to be eight or nine in the painting.

"But…where is his mask?" Amy inquired, never having known her father to be without it.

"He…he apparently did not wear one when he was younger," was all Christine could think to say. And it was true, for the boy in the painting had no facial defect, no scars or reason to hide behind a mask. Had Erik not said that an accident had occurred about four years ago, leaving him dependent on the leather covering in order to interact with others without shame? Squinting her eyes, Christine tried to imagine what this little boy might look like all grown up. Granted he shared some characteristics with his father, the dark hair, the same build perhaps but if truth be told, he seemed to favor his mother in looks. Especially the most noticeable feature…those captivating golden eyes. As Christine studied the regal looking woman standing behind her son, her hands placed lovingly on his shoulders, she could see why Erik remembered her with fondness. Her kindness and gentle spirit practically leapt off the canvas, making Christine very sad that she never had the opportunity to make her acquaintance. Where his father looked as stern and unapproachable as he had been in person, Erik's mother was all goodness and light. Her beautiful blond hair was coiled up in an elegant coif, her dress spoke of her flair for fashion and her smile gave evidence that she had loved to laugh. Yes she could certainly see why Erik missed her.

While Christine has been standing there examining the portrait, the children had continued to explore and soon they found something that once more prompted them to call out to her.

"Christine, can I have this?" Robert's little voice rang out, excitement bubbling over in his question.

"What is it?" she asked, turning away from the painting to look at him.

"A horse!" the boy cried, holding up a masterfully carved representation of the animal. "Can I keep it, please?"

Christine reached out and took the toy from him, turning it over in her hands as she inspected it. It seemed safe enough, no sharp edges he might harm himself on and it did appear to have been made as a child's play thing. Yet there was no way of knowing if it was some heirloom or item of great worth.

"The horse does not belong to me, Robert, so I am really not the one to decide that," she told him, causing his little face to fall in disappointment, prompting her to offer a compromise. "Why don't we take it with us and put it on the shelf in your room, then when your father gets home you can ask him about it."

"Can we ask Papa if I can have this?" Amy also asked, holding out a stuffed rabbit with grey fur and pink ears. This too was found in the same trunk as the toy horse and Christine wondered if it had once been a beloved toy of Erik's as well. The rabbit appeared to be quite worn and obviously well loved, but from the looks of it, the stitching was sound.

"Of course," Christine smiled. "We can take both of them downstairs with us but they are not to be played with until we get permission from your father, is that understood?" She held out her hand and took the stuffed animal from her, tucking them both in the crook of her arm for safe keeping.

"Yes!" Robert and Amy agreed, excited about the prospect of having new toys.

As she watched the children explore a bit more, Christine did her best to imagine what Erik had been like as a child. It was obvious what he had looked like but what had been his temperament? She found herself laughing a bit as she pictured him just like Robert; happy, easily excited and tenacious as a hound when it came to something he wanted. Pretty much the same Erik she knew now, just…_smaller_.

She was about to inform the children that it was time to go when she heard the door to the attic creak open, alerting her to the fact that they had been caught. She knew she was not defying any of Erik's specific orders but she still could not help but be apprehensive about being discovered up here. Was she now in for a scolding?

"There you are, my lady," the kind voice of Madam Giry called as she came closer. "I had been looking everywhere for you three. Dinner is being served and you know how the cook hates to keep things on the stove too long."

Christine gave a sigh of relief that the older woman did not seem the least bit upset to have found them in the attic. She was glad to see that she had not overstepped her boundaries so soon after Erik's departure.

"We were just doing some exploring," she explained. "But I think we are quite finished for now."

"What have you found there," she asked, pointing at the toys in her arm.

"Robert and Amy discovered these in an old trunk." Christine held them out for her inspection. "I told the children that we must ask their father if they can have them before they are allowed to play with them. Do you think they were his?"

"Hard to say, I never knew the master when he was young," Antoinette confessed. "But I would guess that every little boy had the penchant to play with toys, even one as serious and moody as Master Erik."

Her assessment of him made Christine laugh, trying once again to picture her husband's traits sized down into the body of a child. He must have been a holy terror at times. Looking up at the small window near the pitched ceiling, Christine could see that night had fallen, the full moon and bright stars visible through the glass. She wondered what Erik was doing, was he thinking of her and the children, as they had just been thinking of him? Closing her eyes, she sent out a silent prayer that he might be missing her just as much as she was missing him.

.

.

Erik reclined beside the fire and sipped at the small flask Amir had just handed him. A handful of the men they were hunting with had opted for a night shoot, believing the brightness of the moon would offer a perfect opportunity to bag some more game. Amir had been all for the adventure but Erik had only come along in hopes of distracting his thoughts from Christine. If he had stayed behind at the hunting lodge with the other lords and gentlemen, he was sure he would have been climbing the walls with want to hurry back home. How did other married men do this, leave their wives for days at a time - sometimes weeks - when he felt a day and a half would surely kill him?

"How about handing that back, you have nursed it quite enough," Amir spoke up, reaching for his silver flask that had been in Erik's hand far too long for his liking. He shook it slightly upon retrieval, frowning a bit at how it now sloshed around quite freely.

"How much longer before we get going?" Erik muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the fallen log behind him. This inactivity was once again allowing his mind to wander back to Summercrest and the breathtaking kiss his Christine has sent him off with.

"They are just waiting for the moon to rise over that last hill so we will have more visibility," Amir explained, sitting up and poking the fire before them with a nearby stick. "Just sit back and relax, it won't be long now."

_Oh it had already been far too long_, Erik thought as he shut his eyes and tried to get comfortable. The ground was too hard and every time he moved he felt a new rock or tree-root poking him in the back. Oh what he wouldn't give to be home right now, in his own bed with his beautiful Christine sleeping beside him. Perhaps he might even wake to find her laying on top of him again, her head resting gently on his chest with his arms securely around her, daring any and all to take her from him. But no, here he was, surrounded by men he hardly knew, out in the woods and miles away from the only person he wanted to see at that moment. This was excruciating!

"_Erik_?" came the most delicate voice. "_Erik, where are you_?"

Opening his eyes he scanned the area, searching for the siren who was calling to him.

"Christine?" he answered back, sitting up as he watched her slender form appear from nowhere, exiting from the shadows of the forest like the angel she was. She was dressed all in white, her steps light and easy as she gracefully approached until she was standing directly in front of his prone legs. "What…how did you find me?"

"_I listened for the beat of your heart, my love_," she whispered to him, easing herself down until she was now kneeling beside him. "_It beats in time with mine…it called to me and I followed."_

"But this is no place for you, not with all these…"Erik's words were cut off as he looked around, no longer seeing any of the other men, or even Amir. Where had they gone? Had he fallen asleep and they had left to hunt without him? Whatever the reason, he found he did not care, he was only glad they were gone, leaving him and his angelic bride alone at last.

"_Are you glad that I am here_?" she asked, leaning in a bit as she ran her hand up his leg, ending at mid-thigh, causing him to let out a torturous groan.

"Am I glad…?" he gasped, reaching out and taking hold of her by her forearms and pulling her down until she was resting directly on top of him. "I thought I would die from being without you a minute longer."

"_I missed you as well, my dearest_," Christine purred, the vibrations transferring to his own body and making him once more moan in pain. And yet this agony was one he hated to see end, and quick as a flash he had spun, pinning her beneath him as he loomed above. He sincerely hoped that the rocks and roots that had plagued him so in the last half hour were not cruelly digging into her sensitive flesh.

"Why are you here, Christine?" he asked, needing to know the answer before he took things too far. "What made you come all this way…why?"

"_I needed you to know something_," she stated, reaching up with her hand as she caressed his masked cheek, letting her fingers slide up the side of his head and lose themselves in his thick mass of hair. The sensation was unreal and caused Erik to close his eyes, drinking in the feel of her touch. "_I needed to tell you that I have made my choice_."

Erik took a deep breath and swallowed hard, attempting to remove the lump in his throat before he spoke. "What choice is that, my little daisy?"

"_That I wish to be your wife, Erik. Your wife in all things." _Her voice was just above a whisper but he heard every wonderful word. "_I want to be yours completely and it is my decision…mine alone_."

"Oh Christine," he murmured as his lips came down to meet hers, sealing this perfect moment with a long awaited kiss.

"_Erik…oh Erik_," she crooned as he rained passionate kisses upon her lips, her cheek and then her neck. "Erik…wake up!"

Erik sat straight up, his chest was tight and his breathing was coming in gasps…what had just happened? Where was Christine? He turned his head frantically, searching for his elusive bride but instead he only saw Amir sitting a few feet away, with a ridiculous grin on his face.

"So…" his friend began, as he leaned back on one elbow and crossed his legs at the ankles. "What exactly were _you_ dreaming about just now?"

"I…I was dreaming?" Erik asked, a sinking feeling settling in his gut at the idea that her being there with him had all been a cruel fantasy. For even if her presence had been fabricated by his tired mind, his body still believed it to be fact.

"Well I certainly hope so," Amir returned, his wicked smile never fading. "Otherwise, seeing as I am the only one in your immediate proximity, your words might give me cause for concern. Thankfully, I do _not_ answer to the name Christine." He then sat up and tossed the stick he had been holding into the fire and stared at his masked friend with sympathy. "It would appear, that you are hopelessly in love with your wife."

Once more Erik shot his companion a withering glare for his use of the word. Whether it was true or not, he had long since given up hope on such an idea. It would take a lot more time and convincing to change his mind about it too. Lust he knew, desire he understood, but love? He wished for nothing more than simply that but years of cruel words and looks of disgust – the majority coming from himself – had left him bitter on the subject. And yet…could he? Or more importantly… _could she_?

"Deny it all you want, Erik," Amir continued. "But if I know nothing else in this world…I know love. And you, my friend, are deep in it!" He might have said more, but there came a collective shout from the other men milling around the camp, announcing the full rise of the moon and thus their departure. Amir stood up and tossed a small bucket of water onto the flames, watching them sputter and die as white smoke rose from the pit. "Come Erik, perhaps the hunt will clear your mind for a bit…yet I highly doubt it."

Erik rose as well, dusting himself off and grabbing his gear. Yes, he would join the hunt, but deep down he knew his friend was right. Nothing was going to drive Christine…or his dream…from his troubled mind tonight.

.

.

**Don't you just HATE those dreams you think are real? I know Erik does! Amir is having wayyyyyyy too much fun with all this.**

**So, do you think Erik IS in love? My money is on YES!**

**What do you suppose is Joseph's issue...or more to the point, Christine's issue with Joseph? **

**Do you think Erik will be happy about the whole 'kids in the garden' thing?**

**So many questions...hopefully the answers will come soon enough.**


	22. Chapter 22

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest:** I think it is a very good sign that Erik is dreaming of his wife...better than him dreaming about Amir, ha ha ha ha ha!

**Melstrife**: I strongly encourage you to get an account. It is fast, easy and free. AND if you would still like to remain anonymous every now and again, just log out and post your reviews under "guest" and poof, you are back to invisible and unreachable. ha ha. I like where your mind is taking you on your guesses concerning Joseph. More on that in _this_ chapter. As for the garden...I do not think Erik ever had any designs on it being THEIR garden...and we will just have to see how he reacts WHEN he finds out. Thanks for the review!

.

**Chapter 22**

.

.

It felt quite late as Christine climbed the stairs to her room after putting the children to bed. While she had already spent many days in the company of Robert and Amy, today had been the first where she had played both mother _and_ father to the rambunctious duo…_and survived_.

After dinner they had made a second trip out to see the horses but this time Christine waited until Joseph had retired for the night in order to avoid seeing him again. She then spent the remainder of the evening playing games with the twins and reading them stories, as well as singing a few songs, in order to get them to sleep. She earned several words of praise from Rose when she at last succeeded in putting them down for the night.

Meg was there waiting for her and made quick work of preparing her for bed as she could tell her mistress was exceedingly tired. Christine thought perhaps this was a good thing, for she was not looking forward to sleeping alone in the bed she normally shared with Erik. She could already sense his absence in the room, she could only imagine how lonely the bed would feel as well. Yet lonely or not, Christine was exhausted and she would need a good night's sleep if she was going to take care of the children tomorrow as well as prepare for Erik's return. She had decided that she would tell him of her new-found resolve as soon as they were alone and having spent the day bereft of his company had only strengthened that desire. He was her husband, the man she had promised to spend her life with and this one day apart had proven to be completely miserable.

Oh she was sure there would be more such nights as this, for he was an important man, a land owner and there were duties he must attend to. Yet, to have him ripped from her side just at the moment she wanted nothing more than to cleave to him, well that was simply maddening. As she lay there in bed, staring at the ceiling, she began to wonder what the marital act would be like. Yes she had heard tales - well, horror stories to be sure – from some of the girls at the convent, but could they be believed? None of them had ever experienced such things first hand and from what little she had felt from Erik's touches and kisses…perhaps they were wrong? If it were truly so terrible, why would her body seem to crave contact with his? Why did she feel light headed and tingly all over whenever he was near her? The act of physical love could not truly be that terrible, could it? Either way, Christine was determined to find out…and soon!

With that thought on her mind, she rolled over, grabbed Erik's pillow and hugged it close to her, breathing in his scent as she drifted off to sleep.

.

It was happening again…her nightmare had returned! She watched as once more her younger self was cast into the repetitive cycle of hiding, then running to her parents, finding them beyond help and then caught in the clutches of the faceless men…the faceless men who now had voices.

_"I told you to dispose of everyone in the house!"_ the man who held her growled.

_"We did, sir,"_ that other voice, the eerily familiar one responded. _"We took care of the butler and the maid…but we never saw this little miss."_

_"Must I do everything myself? How hard can it be to do away with one small child? Allow me to demonstrate!"_

At this point Christine expected to wake up, to find herself clawing at her throat and gasping for air. However, this time she did not…instead the dream continued.

Her younger self was struggling, fighting and doing all she could to fend off the large hands that were now clamping around her neck as he began to choke the life from her small body. But she was not going to give up easily and she watched as her younger self kicked and fought, reaching out with her tiny arms until she came into contact with the neck of the man who held her. With all her strength she raked her avenging fingers across his throat in an attempt to hurt him as much as he was hurting her. She heard the man cry out, cursing her for his pain, as he threw her away from him with brutal force.

Present day Christine watched helplessly from the sidelines as her little body was sent crashing into a nearby dresser, her head striking the edge with a sickening blow. She crumbled to the floor, no longer moving, as a pool of blood formed around her head, soaking into the ornate rug beneath her.

"_And that is how it is done, you worthless buffoon!_" the man who had tossed her away exclaimed as he gripped his neck, his own blood now visible between his fingers.

_Good! She had at least left her mark on him_, she thought to herself. But then, without warning, they were all gone, leaving Christine alone in the room with only her lifeless parents and her own younger self as company. She did not know what to do…the dream had never gone this far before, she had always woken up! She fell to her knees beside herself and reached out to touch her hand…and that is when she saw it. The small gold chain peeking out from between her tight fist. The chain that held the medallion! It had come from _him_, the man who had attacked her, the man who had killed her parents! All these years she had known it was important, known it caused her great fear but she had never known why.

"THE MEDALLION!" Christine shouted, now at last sitting up in bed fully awake and gasping for air. Yet this time she knew why. This time she had a clue!

Jumping out of bed she quickly rushed to her dressing table and took out the small box she had placed inside. Unhooking the latch she opened it up and removed the false bottom, staring at the small object wrapped in the linen handkerchief below it. She had not touched it in years…was it even still in there? She remembered the day she awakened at the hospital, alone and frightened with only her estranged uncle there to greet her. She could remember nothing at the time, hardly even her own name, just vague memories and pieces of the past while her head and mind tried its best to heal. It was that night, when everyone had gone home that one of the kindly nurses had given her the medallion on the gold chain, claiming that she had been clutching it in her little hand when she had arrived at the hospital. She had kept it for her, figuring it must be a treasured memento and wished to see it returned. Christine has accepted it but upon seeing what was depicted on the coin sized golden disk, she felt a fear come over her that she could not describe or explain. So wrapping it up in a handkerchief she had hidden it under her pillow, taking it with her in secret when she left the hospital for the convent. There in her box of treasures it had stayed, taken out only once or twice in the past nine years in hopes that it might jar loose a memory. Well no more, for tonight she knew the truth and tonight she would look at it for what it truly was – the piece of evidence that would one day reveal her parents killer!

Slowly she pulled back the cloth, holding her breath in preparation for the moment it came into view. And there it was…the golden disk glimmering in the moonlight, the medallion with the carving of an animal's bared claw. It could have belonged to a wolf, or a mountain lion, she had no way to be sure. Yet the significance it was meant to convey was clear - the outstretched paw, baring the sharp talons denoted an attack, the killing of one's prey. Yet to a once little girl, who was now a grown woman, it still meant _fear_.

Christine was not sure how long she had sat there, staring at the metal pendant but a sound touched her ears that drew her back to reality. Crying. Someone in the house was crying! Her first instinct was that it was the children and that she must go to them immediately. But as she wrapped up the piece of jewelry and stowed it safely back in the box, she realized the sound was too deep to be one of the twins…this was an adult that was sobbing…a woman.

Slipping on her robe and grabbing a lit candle she snuck out the door and made her way down the hall towards the sound, letting the pathetic wail guide her wherever it led. She was hardly shocked when it brought her to the door at the entrance to the east wing, the very same one she had seen Madam Giry go in, the one that always remained locked. Well, tonight was no exception and try as she might, the handle would not budge.

Her mind drifted back to her earlier thought, that perhaps it was the older housekeeper who was the one doing the crying. Had she not hinted that she came to this room in order to gain some privacy? Privacy that she might need to vent some hidden frustrations or cry about some past tragedy? Christine knew more than her fair share about having a past that caused nightmares and tears, and all she wanted to do was help the dear woman if she could.

Part of her whispered that she should not poke her nose where it did not belong, maybe the woman did not want to be bothered? Yet she could hear the most pitiful crying coming from behind the door! Muffled a bit, but still very clear. Christine could stand the mystery no longer, she had to know what was going on…_she just had to_! So, throwing caution to the wind, she raised her hand and knocked loudly at the door.

"Madam Giry…are you there?" she called, hoping her voice penetrated the thick wooden barrier. "It is me, Christine. Do you need some help? Please answer me."

Within seconds the crying stopped and dead silence followed. At least she now knew she had been heard, now she just needed the housekeeper to respond.

"Madam Giry…Antoinette?" she tried to bring it down to a more personal level. "I know you are in there, I just want to help you if I can. Please come out."

Again her requests were met with only silence, causing her heart to plummet as she feared she had achieved nothing more than cold feet for her troubles. But then, faintly she heard footsteps, growing nearer and nearer until Christine stepped back as she watched the locked door slowly open. She held her breath, almost afraid of who - _or what_ - might reveal themselves in the next few moments.

"Christine? What are you doing up at this hour?" Madam Giry asked with great surprise, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. "You will catch your death standing here with nothing on your feet. The master will not be pleased if you take sick while he is gone."

"I…I heard you crying. I wanted to see if I could help in any way," she answered, ignoring her warnings of cold or illness.

"You heard…_me_ crying?" Antoinette asked slowly, as if unsure how to answer.

"Yes, I could hear you all the way in my room. You sounded so forlorn, please tell me what I can do," she begged.

"Oh my dearest," Madam Giry sighed, stepping forward and taking the younger girl in her arms and giving her a big hug. "You are so very kind and I thank you for your thoughtfulness. But please do not concern yourself. I…I did not mean to disturb your sleep. Please, forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," Christine insisted. "Yet it pains me to think of you in such turmoil. Do you miss your husband? Is that what has you so sad?" Christine asked, thinking back to what little she knew of the woman from the things Meg had told her. If Antoinette missed Meg's father as much as she now missed Erik – even after only being gone one day – that could easily be the reason for her tears.

The older lady was quiet for a moment, her eyes becoming shadowed as she contemplated her young mistress's words.

"Aye, that I do, my dear," she nodded sadly, placing her arm around Christine's shoulder and steering her back towards her own room. "He was the love of my life and the father of my child, how could I not miss him?"

"I would love to hear about him," she prompted as they walked. "I mean, unless it would cause you pain to speak of him."

"No my dear, it would bring me joy to share my Gerome with you," she laughed, but even the sound betrayed a measure of pain. "He was not perfect, by any means, yet what man is?" At this she gave Christine a knowing wink, causing her to blush and look at the floor for a moment. "He slurped his soup, he mumbled to himself when he read and he was never the best when it came to finances. However, we had a good life together and though he was taken from me far too soon, I have my memories…and of course my darling Meg. I admit that times were hard for both of us after we lost him but now Master Erik has seen to it that we both have a happy and secure home for as long as we desire it."

"Is there anything I could do to offer you some comfort?" she pressed, not liking the idea that this kind woman knew such grief that would cause her to cry out in the night the way she did.

"No. When one loses the one they love, it is a grief that cannot be taken away…only something that can be eased with time." Madame Giry stopped then and her eyes drifted back towards the east wing as she became lost in her own thoughts. "When a heart is broken, when it feels lost and alone, sometimes there is nothing a body can do but express its grief through tears." She then seemed to snap out of her trance and turning she cupped Christine's face in her hands and kissed her forehead in a motherly fashion. "Your husband is a fortunate man to have found such a gentle soul as you for a bride. I hope he realizes just how blessed he is. Now come, you need to get back to bed where it is warm and I need to be asleep as well. The master will be returning tomorrow and there is a fine feast to prepare for the conquering hero. Assuming he and Master Dessan were able to lay off the spirits long enough to shoot straight."

This had both the ladies laughing by the time they reached Christine's room and with one final embrace in parting, she entered her chambers and returned to her bed. Yet sleep did not come immediately, and she lay awake for a long time thinking of ways she might help the kindly housekeeper. When she had exhausted herself with useless ideas, she decided to ask Erik about it when he returned. Perhaps he knew nothing about his employees sorrows or night time tears. If he did, she was certain he would want to do something to help. Yes, she would speak with him about it tomorrow.

.

.

Even after her midnight sojourn to the east wing, Christine still woke with energy and zeal – knowing that Erik would be returning before nightfall. This idea put a spring in her step and a smile on her face all through breakfast and on into mid-day. Robert had once more been relentless, begging Christine to take him out to visit the horses the moment they were done eating. This time, however, she took precautions and asked Peter to bring Angel out to the paddock, expertly avoiding any confrontation with Joseph. The cook had been kind enough to send along a few apples so the children had a treat to offer her. Christine showed them how to lure her over by calling her name and then rewarding her for her compliance, just like Erik had done. She found herself giggling behind her hand as she thought of how easily this very trick had worked on her with the chocolates. She felt a tug at her heart as she wished for nothing more than to hear Erik call her _his little daisy _again.

After spending time with Angel, Christine took the children to the garden and they worked and played there for several more hours, digging in the dirt, planting flowers and generally having a good time. Wiping her hands on a rag, she stood up and looked around, pleased with the progress they had made in only two days. Granted, the gardeners had done the majority of the work, but she felt that she and the twins had added their own touches here and there. As she watched Robert pushing Amy on the newly replaced rope swing, the little girl begging to go higher, Christine felt a warm sense of accomplishment. She wondered if Erik would be pleased by her efforts as well.

Lunch had been served on the patio that day and afterwards the children wished to play hide and seek, leaving Christine as the seeker as the twins ran and hid. At first it was easy to find them, especially with their constant giggles and belief that if they only closed their own eyes, then no one could see them either. But an hour into the game Christine was having a dreadful time finding Robert. Amy had been located almost immediately but as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of her brother, Christine began to become concerned.

"Where did he go?" she asked, searching the bushes once more around the patio where they had been playing.

"I don't know," Amy admitted, her little face perplexed and growing concerned.

Christine decided to expand her search, seeing that there were several buildings within sight that he might have decided to take refuge in. The first one was a shack used for gardening tools and bags of fertilizer, causing the smell to be quite offensive. She doubted that he would have stayed hidden in there for too long. The next was stacked to the ceiling with sacks of grain and oats, obviously a stockpile for the horses but it left no room for anyone to hide in. By the time she opened the door to the third shed, Christine had to admit that she was becoming panicked. She had so desperately wanted to impress Erik with her parenting skills while he was gone, showing him that she could be a good mother, that perhaps he would even allow the twins to call her that. But if he came home to find one missing…oh she couldn't even allow her mind to think that way! Robert could not have simply vanished; he had to be here _someplace_.

"Robert, are you hiding in here?" she called out desperately as she entered the dark wooden building where the carriage was stored. "Please come out if you are, you are beginning to frighten me."

There was a sound of rustling and then the door of the black carriage opened and the little boy's face appeared.

"Here I am," he announced, his smile fading a bit at the sight of Christine's look of fear.

Christine could not help herself, she ran towards him and pulled him off the step, crushing his little body to hers as she held him tightly. At first he was too stunned to protest but when she did not release him, he began to squirm around in attempts to free himself from her constricting embrace.

"Oh Robert, you must never do that to me again," Christine chided him, her voice full of relief.

"But I was supposed to hide," he argued, unable to understand why she was so upset. "That is how the game works."

Christine began to laugh, allowing him to pull back from her as she looked into his confused, golden eyes.

"Yes, I know it is," she agreed. "But I am not very good at this game, so you and your sister have to remember not to hide so well. I get scared when I can't find you."

"Don't be scared, Christine," the boy pleaded, placing his chubby little hands on her cheeks. "You found me."

"Yes I did," she laughed, kissing the tip of his nose before she put him down. "Since you were so good at hiding, I think we shall call you the winner and end the game for today."

"I won?" he asked, bouncing up and down as they exited the building and joined Amy who was waiting in the doorway. "Amy…I won!"

.

.

The sun was just beginning its descent after reaching its zenith and while the day was only half gone, to Erik, each passing minute felt like a lifetime! They had left the hunting party right after breakfast but Erik made an unscheduled stop at the home of a neighboring lord to make a purchase before he had turned towards home - putting them behind on time as far as he was concerned. Yet, as Erik turned around and smiled at the little, yellow and white pony that followed behind the wagon, he knew it would be worth it.

Lord Tolbert had assured him that it was thoroughly tame and would be a perfect mount for a young lad to cut his teeth on. From the lazy way the pony plodded along, Erik guessed he was right. However, he would be the final judge on that once he saw how the little Dartmoor took to the saddle. He could only imagine the look on Robert's face when he saw the appropriately sized equine he had acquired. He knew the little boy would be beside himself with joy. Erik realized that Amy might be a bit disappointed that there was no kitten for her stuck in his nap-sack but he was sure he could find some farm house in the near future that would provide him with her heart's desire. For now, the pony would have to do.

"You realize that crook of a lord overcharged you for the Dartmoor," Amir told him as they rode side by side. The wagon and its driver, carrying the three stags they had killed, lumbered behind them at a slower pace. "I would not have paid a penny over…"

"I did not care," Erik broke in, irritated that his friend was griping over a few pounds when he would have happily paid twice the asking price just to see his little Robert smile. "I could easily afford the price and even you will not make me regret my decision."

"I do not criticize your decision to purchase the pony, just your knowledge of horse flesh, for you my friend, were robbed," Amir laughed. "But yes, you can do what you like with your money, far be it from me to point out your faults."

"Oh yes, because you have never done so in the past," Erik grumbled, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"It is my job as your friend to do so, just as it is yours to keep me entertained by always giving me something to point out." Amir was apparently enjoying this sparring very much. "And you have never let me down yet."

"So glad to be of service," he growled back. He then gave a heavy sigh as he looked up, seeing that the sun had sunk even lower.

"Don't fret, we will be back at Summercrest soon. Then you can present the pony to the kids and be an even bigger hero in their eyes," he laughed, seeing the smile reappear on Erik's face at the idea. He knew his friend had always loved the children, yet with Christine there, he realized that Erik now saw them more as a family. A family he wished to get back to as quickly as possible, and not just to deliver the little English Dartmoor. No, Amir knew that Erik's impatience rested solely in the delicate hands of his beautiful bride. The way he had moaned her name as he slept around the campfire had been more than proof of that. While he enjoyed ribbing his friend over his new found joy, Amir found that he envied Erik even more. His smile faded as he thought of his own lost love and in an attempt to distract himself from the painful memories, he quickly turned his mind to other things. "So will I be seeing you two at Lord and Lady Kingsford's dinner party tomorrow night? I will hunt you down and do unspeakable things to you, if you dare to abandon me there alone."

"More unspeakable than this?" Erik asked, gesturing to his mask, yet surprisingly, his voice held a measure of humor. "I am afraid someone beat you to it, my friend. Besides, with me, your threats fall short of its mark. You do not frighten me. But yes, we will be attending, for my bride is anxious to go and I will not see her disappointed."

"I am glad to hear it," Amir laughed. "Not only that you will be joining me there but that you are so keen on the idea of pleasing Christine. It shows that you have grown…and not just in the sideways direction."

"She has made me think of others, not just my own troubles and pride," Erik told him, ignoring his derogatory comment. "I want her to be happy, I want her to look upon me with pride, I want…"

"You want her to love you," Amir finished for him. "Even if you still will not admit it yourself. Come on, Erik…just say it. You have fallen in love with her!"

Erik reigned in Phantom and turned in his saddle to look at his grinning friend. Dare he? Would admitting it out loud somehow break the delicate fabric of his feelings and shatter them into a thousand pieces, never to be reformed? Or would it instead solidify them and make them all the more real? He had railed against love for so long. During his youth he had scoffed at the idea, in his adulthood he had run from it and since his disfigurement it ran from him. But now…now he had been given one last chance for that elusive feeling to take shape and grow in his heart. Did he love Christine? _Did he_?

"You're damned right I love her!" he all but shouted. "Amir…_I am in love with my wife_!" With that he kicked his heels into Phantom's sides, receiving a neigh of complaint from the horse as he reared up and then bolted forward, spurred on by his eager master. Erik now had one thing on his mind…and that was getting back to Summercrest…and Christine!

.

.

**HE SAID IT...OUTLOUD! No take backs, you said it boy, and we ALL heard it. *FP33 takes out a red marker and puts a big X on the calendar to mark the date***

**Sooooo, looks like we learned a few things about Christine's parent's murder through her dream! Did everyone catch that little slip of the tongue there? Anyone? And now we know what was hidden in her treasure box...but what does it all mean?**

**Hmmmm, IS Antoinette the one hiding the secret and not Erik at all? I think Christine believes so. You?**

**And who is the best papa in the world? Robert is going to flip a gizzard when he sees that pony!**


	23. Chapter 23

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**Roseilea:** WOW! Have you somehow accessed my computer and read the next 20 chapters? As you might notice, I held your guest review back from going up on the site just because you were ALMOST spot on in your guesses! Couldn't have my whole plot line out there for all the world to see just yet, could I? hee hee. BUT as soon as those revelations come to light I will send it up to the site so everyone will see just how smart you are! Thanks for the review - it was both fun and shocking to read how close to the truth you came!

**Melstrife:** Good, I look forward to the day when you do get an account. Now lets not start believing M. Giry's story, OK? I mean EVERYONE is lying to Christine, why not her too? Yep, two clues...the Medallion AND neck scars...hmmm, who could it be? I agree, I think a little wooing and being wooed is needed now...right? Yes, Robert is probably going to pass out from joy when he sees the pony! ha ha.

**Guest: ** Yes, well, there was no kittens to be had at the time, so one pony will have to do for now. I suspect Amy will be OK with it. ;)

.

**NOW...lets see how Erik's homecoming goes...shall we?**

**.**

**Chapter 23**

.

.

Erik rode swiftly up the drive towards his home, his heart beating in time with Phantom's hooves as they struck the ground below him. He couldn't get there fast enough.

When he came to a halt at the front of the house, there was a scurry of servants, eager to welcome their master home and see to his bidding. Peter appeared and took hold of Phantom, waiting till Erik had untied his saddle bags and handed them to Mr. Bower who stood at the ready.

"Good to have you back, sir," he stated in his pleasant but stately tone. "Was your trip a success?"

"It was. There will be venison for all as soon as they are hung and dressed," he took a moment to look behind him with a shake of his head. "That is if Amir would hurry that blasted wagon driver along." When he turned back around he let his eyes stray to the front door, hoping to see Christine there to greet him. Yet the entryway remained empty. "Has the lady of Summercrest and the children been informed of my return?" he asked, trying not to appear too anxious.

"Nay, sir," Mr. Bower shook his head, looking a bit embarrassed. "I would have done so immediately, but I am currently unaware of their location. In fact I have not seen them for hours."

"I see," Erik was now truly crestfallen. His perfect dream of being welcomed home with open arms by his loved ones was dashed to pieces. He was about to turn and head inside when he heard the most delightful sound he could imagine.

"Erik! You're home!" came the happy cry from across the lawns, in the direction of the gardens.

His head whipped around and there she was, his innocent little daisy who put even the reddest rose to shame. She was hurrying towards him with such a lovely smile on her face that it took his breath away. Yet despite her hurried steps, Robert and Amy were faster and came barreling towards him with open arms.

"Papa!" they cried, flinging themselves into his eager embrace with childish glee.

_Now this was more like it,_ he thought as he felt his heart swell with pride. This was the homecoming he had longed for.

By the time he had sufficiently greeted the two inquisitive children, Christine had made her way to his side, her expression showing that she was quite pleased that he had returned.

"Did you miss me?" he asked her, his tone breathless and hopeful.

"I did indeed, my husband," she assured him, lowering her eyes as a maidenly blush kissed her cheeks. "Things were not the same with you gone."

"Well, I am home now, and have no further plans that will take me from your side," he stated, setting the two children down on their feet as he did his best to gauge her reaction to his statement.

"That pleases me very much," Christine smiled, taking a step closer to Erik, wishing he would fill his now empty arms with her. "For there are some things I wish to discuss with you, my husband, and having you here on the premises will greatly aid that endeavor." With that, she raised herself on her tip-toes and offered him a welcoming kiss.

Erik had planned to allow her to dictate the mood of his home-coming and so far she had not disappointed him one bit. At the touch of her lips he found himself unable to hold back his emotions any longer, letting his arms snake around her delicate waist and pull her to him in a possessive manner. The once chaste kiss deepened until they were again oblivious to all that stood around them, both Mr. Bower and Peter politely averting their eyes as they studied the intricate cloud patterns in the sky. The children however, did not show them the same courtesy.

"Why are you doing that…again?" Robert questioned them, looking at the amazing lack of space between the two.

"It looks like he is biting her," Amy chimed in, also perplexed by the display of affection.

"Silence, you two," Mr. Bower hissed, giving them both a stern look that stopped their mouths.

Erik and Christine had not heard a word and were still lost in their own little world, a world where monsters and secrets did not exist…only them.

Christine was left breathless and light headed when they finally parted and not simply from lack of oxygen. As she looked up into the smoldering golden eyes of the man she shared a name with, she knew she could not wait to inform him of her choice later that night.

"I do believe…" came the unmistakable voice of Amir, who had finally arrived with the wagon trailing behind him. "…that this was the very scene that graced my eyes upon our departure." The Persian laughed, leaning forward a bit and crossing his forearms over the pommel of his saddle with a devilish smile.

"I would suggest you get used to it, should you wish to remain for dinner," Erik informed him, not even turning his eyes away from his blushing bride.

"Yes, please stay," Christine quickly insisted, reluctantly pulling herself free from Erik's embrace. "We would love to have you take a meal with us. I asked the cook to prepare something special for your return."

"You did?" Erik asked, shocked that she would have gone to such trouble.

"Of course! Your homecoming is something to be celebrated," she assured him, placing her open palm against his chest, which he quickly covered with his own.

"No, no," Amir continued, holding up his hand and shaking his head. "As enticing as your invitation is, there is simply no way I can stay. Do not continue to beg, for I truly must go."

"Are you certain?" Erik chuckled, amused by his friends dramatics.

"Erik you must stop badgering me, I told you that I cannot stay!" he further insisted. "I realize it is a blow to your happiness, but I cannot always hang around simply to brighten your dull existence."

"I do not know how I shall survive." Erik's voice was very monotone and full of sarcasm.

"As you normally do, I suppose," Amir assured him. "By the grace of God and the kindness of strangers."

"Then by all means leave. Far be it for us to keep you from your ever-so-important life," Erik retorted.

"Oh fine, if you absolutely insist, how can I turn down such a pleading invitation as that?" Amir said with a sigh of resignation and a roll of his eyes. He then quickly dismounted and stood there looking far too pleased with himself for Erik to even think of being upset.

It was then that Robert, who had been distracted thus far by the antics of both men, noticed the small pony tied to the back of the wagon that was hauling their kill. With a loud squeal, one that startled the other animals, the little boy made a lunge towards the back of the wagon.

"A HORSE!" Robert cried.

"Whoa there," Erik instructed, reaching out and scooping the boy up in his arms before he could get any closer. "You must be calm and quiet when approaching a horse for the first time."

"Is he mine?" he asked in a lower voice, but his little arms and legs were going every which way as he struggled in his father's hold, eager to see the pony better. "It is just my size! Did you buy him for me? I have been very good, you can even ask Christine!"

Erik could not help but laugh at the wiggling worm in his arms and how excited the boy was at the prospect of having his very own steed. His little hands were reaching out, each finger itching to feel and touch, so to spare the boy some sort of fit, Erik walked slowly over to where the completely uninterested pony now stood.

"I picked him up this morning after one of the gentlemen I was hunting with boasted that he had the largest stock of ponies in the province," Erik explained as he set the boy down in front of the equine. The pony lifted his head from where he had been sniffing around for grass in the barren drive, and blinked his long, blond eyelashes at Robert. With a mild show of interest, the diminutive horse leaned his head forward and nuzzled the boy's outstretched hand, making a snuffling noise that had the child hopping up and down with excitement. None of this seemed to frighten, or even interest, the pony, who calmly lowered his head and went back to searching for sustenance. This pleased Erik, for he certainly did not want some skittish animal around the children.

"Can I ride him?" Robert asked, turning back around to stare at Erik with pleading eyes.

"No official riding until we get a proper saddle and bridle for him," Erik said with a shake of his head. "You can sit on his back while I lead him around the corral for now, but we will need to give both you and Amy riding lessons before I will let you try it on your own."

"Amy?" Robert cried, looking over at his sister like she was the enemy. "She doesn't want a horse…she wants a cat."

"And I intend on getting her one as soon as possible, but until then I would think you would be kind enough to share your pony with her," Erik informed the boy, crossing his arms over his chest and giving him a stern look. "For I am only willing to give gifts to little boys and girls who are not selfish and know how to share."

Robert seemed to think this over for a moment before nodding resolutely.

"She can ride him once in a while," he agreed. "But that means she has to let me pet her cat when she gets it too."

"I promise!" Amy cried, leaping forward and throwing her arms around her brother in gratitude. "Can I pet your pony now, Robert?"

"All right, but let me show you how," the proud little boy informed her, taking her hand as he guided her to stand beside the animal.

Christine and Amir were both doing their best not to laugh at the comical scene in front of them, neither wishing to undermine Erik's authority as he instructed the little boy. Yet with the two of them distracted even Erik could not help but break out in an amused grin.

"Would you like me to stable the new pony for you, Master Erik?" Peter asked, still holding on to the reins for both Phantom and Amir's horse. "There is a nice stall in the corner where I am sure he will be very happy."

"That would be fine, Peter," Erik nodded. "See that he is installed and taken care of. Yet I imagine I will be bringing the children back out after dinner to say goodnight." Erik was sure that Robert would not stand being away from his new gift for long.

"Very well, sir," Peter nodded, a wide smile spreading across his face at the idea. He leaned down and undid the rope that tied the pony to the wagon. "I promise to take very good care of him, Master Robert," he assured the boy who seemed quite forlorn to see his pony go. "Just make sure to bring him back a carrot or two from the kitchen when you come, he will like that."

This news seemed to placate the boy and suddenly he was more than excited to visit the kitchen to see what treats the cook might give him to bring back. With the pony now detached, the driver took the wagon to the back of the house, where the servants were all set up to skin and dress the stags, preparing the meat for distribution among the tenants. With that taken care of, and the horses left in Peter's care, they all followed Mr. Bower back inside.

.

Dinner was a big success. With the children and Amir all gathered around the table, it made the large dining hall feel quite cozy. Both he and Amir kept Robert and Amy enthralled with tales of their hunt and more times than not, the room rung with laughter. Through it all, Erik continued to steal glances at his wife, loving how often he found her already gazing at him. Christine would blush and lower her eyes when caught but not before he was sure she had seen the look of adoration in his own eyes as well. She had mentioned having something important to tell him…could it be? Was his dream the other night somehow coming to pass? He felt a rush of heat through his body at the prospect of being right. Yet, he had guests…and children…to entertain, so his own insatiable curiosity would have to wait. _Damn!_

Dinner was followed by a trip to the stables, a basket of root vegetables in hand to entice the new pony. Erik had to laugh at the way the greedy little beast accepted every one from the hands of the children, despite Peter's assurance that he had just fed the Dartmoor quite well. The little equine was already a bit on the chubby side, making Erik wonder just how fat and lazy he would grow under the care of young Robert. However when he thought back to _his_ first pony, Erik decided that he had very little room to judge.

It was from there that Amir announced that he should be heading home, for looking at the night sky it was evident that a storm was brewing on the horizon. So having Peter saddle his horse, he bid the happy family farewell and rode off towards his estate, whistling a merry tune. Erik always enjoyed his friend's company and good humor but tonight he had to admit he was glad to see him leave…for he had other plans that required some privacy. Now for the children….

"I think your pony has had quite enough treats for one night…perhaps enough for a whole week," he laughed. "I think it is time we let him go to sleep and I believe it is your bedtime as well."

"But Papa," Robert lamented, reaching up to pet the velvety nose of his new friend. "Mr. Cricket will be lonely out here all alone. He might get scared being in a new place. I think I should stay out here with him."

"Mr. Cricket, is it?" Erik chuckled, enjoying the name of the newest member of Summercrest family. The name was a bit unconventional, but once more thinking back to his own pony, which he had named Pudge, Erik _still_ had no room to talk. "Don't you worry, both Phantom and Angel will make sure he is made very welcome and kept company all night until you can come back and tend him in the morning." He then leaned over and scooped the boy up in his arms so there would be no further protests. "Now…to bed with you both, and that is an order."

"Yes, Papa," they both agreed, knowing that when he spoke in that tone, they were not to argue.

.

Erik would have preferred if Rose had taken over the job of putting the twins to bed that night but sadly it was not going to happen. The moment they entered the children's suite, both Robert and Amy were quick to show him the two new toys they had discovered in the attic the day before, explaining to him how Christine said they needed his permission before they could play with them.

Erik's face broke out into a wide grin as he held the wooden horse once again, remembering all the fun times he had spent dreaming up knightly quests and amazing races with this toy. Each scuff and nick had been a mark of love given to the gallant steed as he had played make-believe for hours. With a bit of reluctance he handed the horse back to Robert, nodding his approval that the toy now belonged to him. However, when Amy presented the stuffed bunny, his face became dark and sad, betraying that this particular toy held more than fond childhood memories. He reached out and touched the fur of the rabbit with a faraway look, before clearing his throat and also giving permission for the little girl to take over ownership of the toy. _After all_, he thought to himself, _it was only fitting that Amy now enjoyed the thing._ Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

Christine had not been oblivious to the change that had come over her husband at the sight of the toys they had rescued from the attic. She had hoped he would not be upset by their digging around and thought he had shown no signs of anger, there was definitely a measure of sadness. While the horse had brought him joy and apparently good memories, the bunny had been a completely different story. She wished she could pull him aside and ask if she had done wrong by allowing the children to bring them downstairs. Yet since he had already said they could have them, she decided to drop the subject for fear she make him even more depressed.

Once dressed in their night clothes, Robert and Amy were quickly tucked in bed, their new toys laying protectively beside them. Both children insisted on not only a story from their father - which he hurriedly provided - but then they also begged Christine to sing them a song, like she had done the previous night. Here Erik's impatience came to a halt and even though she had turned a lovely shade of pink at the idea of singing in front of him, he chimed in and insisted she appease the twins. He had long wished to hear her voice raised in song, and now seemed as good a time as any. He was _not_ disappointed!

It was only a children's bedtime song, soft and lilty, designed to soothe the mind and put young ones to sleep but on her lips it was nothing short of perfection. Erik stood behind her as she sat on Amy's bed, singing quietly as their little eyes drooped and closed, ending her song with hardly a whisper. When she was done, he was almost tempted to wake the children so that she would be required to sing again, but no...he had a better idea. As they made their way from the room, Erik took her hand in his and quickly led her out of the nursery, with only a passing word of goodnight for the old nanny.

He could tell that Christine was confused by his sudden insistence, as well as the fact that he led her down the stairs and not to their own room. While Erik had wished for nothing more all evening than to carry her to their suite for that private talk, he now felt a new desire raging inside him…one that could not wait a moment longer.

Soon he was pushing open the door to the conservatory, ushering her inside and then shutting it behind them. Moving to the large grand piano he sat down and lifted the lid, running his fingers over the ivory keys with all the care of a lover. He turned around and signaled for her to come closer, to stand in the crook of the large base as she continued to stare at him in wonder.

"Do you play?" she asked, marveling at how natural he looked sitting there.

"Another noble pursuit my mother insisted I learn but one I never begrudged her," he smiled. "I would dearly love to hear you sing for me. Perhaps something with a bit more power, something that will truly showcase that golden voice of yours."

"I do not…" she began to protest, but closed her mouth when he held up a hand in protest.

"There are many things I do not claim to be an expert on," he began. "But one thing I do know is music and your voice Christine has been touched by the angels…it is spun gold itself."

Christine blushed profusely at this and looked down at her feet. She had always loved to sing, yet to hear her own husband compliment her in such a flowery way truly made her feel special.

"I…I thank you for the compliment," she told him, still not able to look him in the eye.

"I speak only the truth," he assured her, looking down at the keys as he began to play an old familiar tune he hoped she knew as well. When her head came up and she smiled, he decided he had guessed correctly and after playing a short introduction he nodded for her to begin the song on the next stanza.

Oh she sang like a nightingale, a true songbird if he had ever heard one. He had once thought his mother had sung beautifully - and he still did - but Christine put everyone he ever heard in his lifetime to shame. So clear, so strong and oh the perfection of her tone. He felt he had truly died and gone to heaven.

One song led into another, then a third followed by a fourth and fifth. His fingers began to tire, from not having played in such a long time but he refused to listen to their complaints when his ears were receiving such a treat. Still, at last he did stop, noticing that even if he wished to press on, Christine seemed exhausted, _and he couldn't have that_. As the last note faded away into the silence, Erik just stared at her…completely amazed. How had he won such a prize? What had he done in his miserable life that might justify claiming this angel in womanly form as his own? As he watched her, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath, her cheeks flushed from the exertion of song and the almost dazed look in her eyes, he was done for.

Getting to his feet he crossed the distance between them in two strides and she was suddenly in his arms, her slight frame pressed against him as he let his lips come down upon hers in a devouring kiss. _Oh this felt so right…so deliciously right_.

Christine had been left breathless from singing but nothing had prepared her for the complete lack of oxygen she was now experiencing as she was crushed in her husband's embrace. Her own arms quickly sprang to life and found their way round his neck, pulling him even closer if that was at all possible. This was what she had been waiting for…this was what she had dreamed of. She no longer cared about any secrets he had kept from her, for with the revelation of the children her life had suddenly felt complete – they were a family. However, one thing still kept her and Erik from truly being man and wife…and if she had her way, that would be remedied tonight.

"Erik…" she gasped as his lips left hers and trailed down her panting throat. "I…I have to tell you something…"

"Shhhh, say nothing," he instructed, not wishing for this moment to end. "There will be time for words in a moment… but now…just let me kiss you."

His words were almost pleading and she found she could not deny him his request, tipping her head back a bit in order to allow him greater access to her throat. Oh that feeling in the pit of her stomach had returned, the one she had so long felt was a sin. Well, if _this_ was a sin, then she wished to be condemned for all eternity.

Christine could feel Erik's kiss deepen, spurred on by her gentle moans and eager touches, until he was lavishing his attention on her neck, nipping and sucking as he went, driving her crazy with desire. She was reminded of the first time they had met, how his brazen kisses had turned her knees to jelly and her mind to a hazy mist that had only been breached when he had dared let his hands wander to her breasts. But now, with the benefit of marriage, she didn't think she would find any reason to protest if he wished to claim his husbandly privileges in that way tonight. Yet as his hands did wander off her shoulders, skating down her arms and resting on the sensitive flesh at her sides, she couldn't help but jump just a bit, startled, but nowhere near frightened. However, always so very attuned to his surroundings, Erik pulled back at feeling her flinch.

"I am sorry…do you want me to stop?" he asked, knowing he would, but praying the answer would be no. "I do not wish to overstep my bounds…I made you a vow, and I intend to stick to it."

"No…I was just…" she gasped, her body still afire with the ache of desire, and yet her convent-trained modesty could not be completely pushed aside. "Perhaps we might continue this…upstairs?" She couldn't help but blush even deeper as the brazen words came tumbling out of her mouth. "I mean…what if one of the servants caught us in here? What would Madam Giry think?"

Erik released a long laugh of relief. She was worried about the servants catching them? And as for what Antoinette would think, well he could only imagine she would tell him _it was about bloody time_! Oh yes, his outspoken housekeeper was never one for hiding her true feelings on a matter, nor was she shy about expressing those thoughts to him in a scolding manner. He had come to rely on her more in the last four years than he realized…and for more than simply taking care of Summercrest.

"If you think it best, my little daisy," he muttered, nuzzling her once more by her ear as he felt her arch into his embrace, telling him all he needed to know. With a sweeping motion, he gathered her into his arms, smiling at the startled cry she let loose at his gesture. "I seem to recall that I never got to carry my bride over the threshold on our wedding night," he mused. "Would you have any objections to my rectifying that oversight now?"

"N-n-no…none at all," she assured him, her voice stammering as she beheld the look of desire in her husband's eyes as he stared at her.

"Then what are we waiting for?" he asked, heading for the door. With a bit of fumbling, he managed to open it and whisked her through. Even with her slight weight, he mounted the stairs two at a time, eager to reach his final destination. Christine never once took her eyes off of him and he was very pleased that the smile she had worn in the conservatory never left her face as they neared their room. With a kick of his boot, the door gave way and opened to reveal a pleasant fire burning in the hearth, the flames making the room dance with warmth and romance.

Setting her down on her feet he turned her towards him as he ran his hands over her hair, allowing his fingers to glide through each soft strand. Oh she was heaven to touch.

"Now that we are here," he prompted quietly, so as not to spook her with the lust he fought to contain. "Was there something you wished to tell me?" His mind quickly returned to the wonderful dream he had of her while on the hunting trip. Praying that what she wished to reveal to him now was the same words _dream Christine_ had spoken.

"Yes, Erik…I…I have been thinking," she began, swallowing hard as she did her best to muster the courage to speak her mind. "I have given it a lot of thought…especially while you have been away…and I…" A sudden flash of light from the large windows, followed by a loud crack of thunder caused the words to die on her lips, as she practically leapt into Erik's arms with a cry of fright.

Erik couldn't help but chuckle; though he was not hating the position the arrival of the storm had now put them in. Holding her in his arms for any reason was quite pleasant.

"There is nothing to fear, Christine. It is only thunder," he soothed, leaning down to kiss the top of her head as his hand stroked her back reassuringly.

"I am not afraid…I…I was just a bit startled, is all," she explained, pulling back with yet another look of embarrassment, as she tried to compose herself.

"I am not complaining, mind you," he interjected, reaching out and drawing her back into his arms. "In fact, I hope it rains all night long, if it means I can hold you like this." As if on cue, a second flash lit the room, with the deafening crack of thunder quickly behind it. The short amount of time between lightning and thunder told Erik the storm had settled very near to Summercrest.

"It is just so loud!" Christine admitted, flinching when the third booming sound came directly on the heels of the last two.

"Yet I can still hear you very clearly in spite of it," Erik assured her, tipping her chin up with his finger as he looked into her eyes. His own had grown dark with desire, as he tenderly prodded her to continue with the conversation they were having before the storm had so rudely interrupted them. "You were saying…?"

Yet before she could even regain her thoughts, there came an unexpected pounding on their bedroom door. Erik might have quickly dismissed it, had it not sounded like tiny fists beating frantically on the wooden barrier. Quickly releasing Christine, he hurried to the door and yanked it open, only to be almost knocked over by Robert's small body colliding with his, wrapping his arms tightly around his legs. While Erik was busy steadying himself, Christine was assaulted by her own little battering ram, as Amy frantically climbed up into her arms. It was obvious that both children were frightened to death and neither one of them seemed interested in releasing their vice like hold on either adult.

"What is this?" Erik asked, prying Robert's arms free as he lifted him up into his arms. The thunder sounded once again, making the boy bury his head into his papa's shoulder with a whimper.

"Make it stop!" Amy begged, mimicking her brother's actions as she clung desperately to Christine.

"It is nothing to fear, just a bit of noise," Erik explained, doing his best to coax Robert to look at him, yet the boy was having none of it. "There is nothing to fret about and certainly nothing to chase you out of your beds at such an hour."

"Please don't make us go back!" the little boy begged, his chubby cheeks streaked with tears as he shook like a leaf.

"Does Rose know you are gone?" Christine asked, worried that the elderly lady would panic if she found them missing again.

"She is asleep and making even more noise than…than THAT!" Amy informed her, pointing out the window just as another clap of thunder was heard. "We tried to wake her but she just kept snoring."

"Please can we stay with you tonight?" Robert pleaded, looking up at his father for the first time, his eyes full of hope. "I don't want to go back to our room alone."

"Me either!" Amy chimed in. "Please, Papa? Please, Christine?"

Erik looked over at his concerned little wife, his mind and heart warring with each other over his choices. Did he agree to the children's requests and let them stay, thus ruining any chance of learning what it was Christine had meant to tell him? Or did he condemn two frightened and sobbing children to sleeping alone while a storm raged outside? He could not deny there was another type of storm raging _inside_ as well but at least that one he had a measure of control over…_yet not much_.

"You did say you hoped it would rain like this all night long…remember," Christine smiled, her expression a mixture of humor and obvious disappointment. "You know what they say – be careful what you wish for."

Erik gave a low moan and shut his eyes, the unfulfilled desire leaving his body in actual pain. Oh this was going to be torture!

"Yes…you may stay with us tonight," he agreed, earning him a grateful hug from Robert and a huge smile from Amy. "Now you two crawl under the covers while Christine and I get ready for bed ourselves." He gave a heavy sigh as he watched the twins scramble into the middle of the large bed and snuggle down. Of course they would wish to sleep in the middle, thus destroying any chance of even holding Christine as they slept. Just perfect!

Christine watched Erik as he grabbed his night clothes and headed for the bathing room, like always, leaving her to do the same behind the changing screen. She truly felt sorry for him – as well as herself – but she could not help but be proud of her husband over the sacrifice he was making for the sake of the children's fears. She recalled many times when she was young that she had lay quaking in bed over her fears with no one to comfort her. However, Robert and Amy would not be left alone to face the raging storm and she was glad of it. Christine knew that Erik had to at least suspect what she had wished to tell him and she knew that he was just as disappointed by the interruption as she was. Still, this was what families were for and one must take the bad with the good…no matter what. There would always be tomorrow – and Erik was worth the wait.

.

When Erik returned to the room he found that the lights were out and all that remained was the fading firelight but he could still make out the shapes of three bodies in the bed. Crawling in on his side he came into contact with the warm little body of Robert, already fast asleep beside his equally drowsy sister. It would seem that sandwiched between the two of them, the twins felt safe enough to succumb to slumber once more. _Oh to have such faith_, Erik thought to himself.

"It was very good of you to allow them to stay," Christine whispered to him over the two small heads between them. "I would not have slept a wink knowing they were alone in their beds and frightened."

"Neither would I," he admitted with a sigh of resignation. "Yet they truly could not have picked a worse night to need comforting."

"The storm could not be helped," Christine told him, trying her best to keep her smile out of her tone. "And it is only one night," she reminded him.

"Yes…and I am certain it will be the longest night of my life," he muttered, lying back as he fought down the disappointment of not being able to touch his own wife.

"Every night has its dawn," she assured him, though her words sounded hollow in the face of the long hours that lay ahead.

Erik released a deep groan, sounding more in pain than when he had been suffering from his hangover. He lay there, holding still and staring at the ceiling as he listened to the rain outside. When he could stand it no longer he tossed back the covers and stood up and faced the bed.

"What are you doing?" Christine whispered, sitting up as she watched his shadow in the firelight.

"Making it so I can sleep next to my wife," he grumbled, taking hold of the bottom bed sheet and pulling on it gently until it and the three bodies on top, were moved towards his side. Christine soon found herself more in the middle of the bed with the two sleeping children to her right, leaving the spot to her left now open…but not for long. With lightning speed Erik had made his way around and was slipping in next to her, his smile of satisfaction evident even in the dim light. "There…that is much better, don't you think?" he asked as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her body flush with his own.

Christine could not help but giggle, her husband was certainly resourceful, that was for sure. She did not mind at all if he wished to hold her while they slept, the loneliness from the night before having been intolerable. The thought of the previous night suddenly brought several things back to her mind, things she had planned to discuss with Erik when he returned. However, her desire to reveal her _other secret_ to Erik had completely pushed it from her mind and now with the children so close, it would not be a wise time to bring it up. She would broach the subject of Antoinette's nightly cries as well as her revelation about her dream and the medallion with Erik soon, but not here...not now. So snuggling back down, she gave a hum of satisfaction and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth his masculine body offered.

"I promise that I will not forget what it was I wished to tell you but I am afraid it must keep a little while longer," she assured him.

"I will hold you to that, Christine…for I am anxious to hear every word," he informed her, his lips already dangerously close to her ear, as he allowed himself to place one chaste kiss on her delicate cheek.

Christine reached out and found his hand at her waist, once more linked her fingers with his as she gave it a gentle squeeze. Tomorrow could not come soon enough as far as she was concerned.

.

.

**Drat those pesky kids! (do I sound like a villain from Scooby-do? ha ha) Oh well, so it goes when you are a loving and attentive parent. **

**So, Erik not only got the homecoming he was hoping for, but he got to hear her sing as well. What a day for our boy!**

**Gotta love Amir, he is just so full of humor...or at least he is full of_ something_. I think we will keep him around.**

**So Erik did not freak out about the toys, but there WAS something about that bunny that upset him. Wonder what it was?**

**Ok, NOW we are getting to the meat of the story here - there is some more fluffy stuff coming - like the dinner party - but then some mysteries that are tired of remaining hidden away MUST come to light. Oh no...enjoy this time while it lasts Erik...**


	24. Chapter 24

.

EARLY POSTING!

**Guest reviews:**

**Roseilea:** Oh no! Do not apologize! I loved your review and your insightful guess. You SHOULD be very proud of yourself, you sleuth you! And since you review as a guest, I would love it if you would continue with your guessing, for I can always hold it back if you keep being so smart. - but I would LOVE to hear more from you! So keep it up girl, you are on FIRE! Also, all your comments will be sent up very soon, since we are getting to where all will be revealed!

**Melstrife**: I am pleased that you approved of how Erik handled the whole "pony sharing" issue. Yes he is a good parent, as seen by the fact that he let the kids stay the night and did not send them back to bed. What a sacrifice! Hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

**Guest:** I am glad you love it...that was the whole idea! ha ha.

.

**Chapter 24**

.

.

Amazingly, Erik had slept well, when he had been sure the feel of Christine's delicious body so close to his would have kept him awake all night. However, he now noted that his arms were disappointedly empty and a quick feel of the area next to him revealed that he was alone in the bed. Well, not completely alone, for he had the uneasy feeling that someone was watching him. He could also feel something shaking the bed, a slight trembling followed by the chattering of teeth.

Opening his eyes he saw Robert sitting in front of him, with wet hair and his little body wrapped in a large bath towel. He was looking directly at Erik but he could not tell if the child was smiling or not, since the lower half of his face was buried in the cloth, apparently in an attempt to keep warm.

"Robert, what are you doing?" Erik asked, sitting up as he stared at the boy.

"Christine told me to c-c-come out and sit by the fire while she finished giving Amy her b-b-b-bath," he explained, his stuttered words still muffled by the towel.

"Then why are you sitting on the bed?" Erik persisted.

"B-b-b-because the fire burned out and it was not w-w-w-warm over there." Robert told him.

"Then you should have wakened me up and I would have fixed that." Why had the boy not thought of this himself?

"But Christine told me to b-b-b-be quiet and not to wake you, so I thought I would s-s-sit here and wait for you to get up on your own," came his very logical childlike response. Erik shook his head as he got out of bed, scooping the boy up in his arms as he went. Grabbing one of the blankets he wrapped Robert up in it and placed him on the settee in front of the fireplace, instructing him to stay put while he stoked the flames. It did not take long before it was ablaze once more, offering them both the heat they sought. He glanced outside to see that the rain had continued throughout the night, bringing with it a cold spell that was the cause for the chill in the room.

When Robert felt warm enough, he slipped out of the cocoon Erik had created for him, and stood next to where Erik sat by the fire. Erik spotted a stack of clothing for the children, alerting him to the fact that Christine must have already informed Rose of their whereabouts, as she acquired their daily attire. Since Robert was now fully dry, Erik helped him dress and then did his best to smooth down the boy's wild hair. He was about to give up on the whole ordeal when Christine and Amy appeared from the washroom, the little girl scrubbed clean and also wrapped in a large towel.

"You're awake," she smiled, seeing him there with the now dressed little boy.

"It is difficult to sleep when you have an inquisitive pair of eyes boring a hole into your skull," Erik laughed.

"Robert," she scolded, looking at him with mock irritation. "I thought I told you to let your father sleep?"

"I did…he woke up all on his own," the boy insisted, trying to push Erik's hands away as he attempted to make some kind of semblance of his hair.

"Yes…I am sure he did," she nodded, not at all convinced. After handing Erik the comb she had been holding, Christine began to rub the little girl dry while still wrapped securely in the towel.

Despite Robert's protests, Erik at last managed to tame the boy's unruly locks and felt rather proud of himself for attending to the child's morning care. As he looked over at Christine, laughing with and teasing the little girl, he felt a warm sense of contentment wash over him, one he did not wish to end. Things were finally beginning to feel right and he found himself dreaming of getting Christine alone again so that she could reveal her musings to him. He only hoped it was what he thought it might be – he was unsure if he could handle the disappointment if it wasn't.

"So what time will we be leaving for the Kingsford's dinner party tonight?" she asked, breaking him from his private thoughts.

"The what?" he asked, taken off guard by her question.

"The dinner party at Lord and Lady Kingsford's home," she reminded him, her expression turning quizzical. "You do still want to attend, do you not?"

_Damn_! Erik had forgotten about that, despite Amir's threat of doing him bodily harm should he bow out at the last minute. He had said they would attend, yet right now that was the last thing Erik wished to do. Especially with Christine's revelation that needed to be discovered.

"I would say around dusk," Erik said with a sigh. What a waste of a perfectly good evening. "Amir said he would meet us there and warned us not to be late. He is not keen on the idea of being forced to make polite conversation until we arrive."

"Then we dare not be tardy," Christine laughed as she hurriedly dressed the now dry little girl so that she would not grow cold. She had originally planned on telling Erik of her wifely intentions last night but with the children present in the room, the timing had not been ideal. Yet, the drive home from the party would afford her the perfect opportunity to express her desires to him with no interruptions. Yes, things could not be working out more perfectly if she had planned it.

"Can we go visit Mr. Cricket now?" Robert asked, breaking the silence with his insistent pleas.

Erik looked out the window once more and seeing the rain still coming down in sheets, he shook his head.

"No, it is far too wet right now," he told him. "You have had one bath already and do not need a second. We will go visit your pony when it stops raining."

"Promise?" the little boy asked, not willing to let it lie at that.

"Yes, I promise, the minute it stops raining." Erik assured him with a chuckle. "But now I need to see to my own bath and get dressed. It will not due for the master of Summercrest to lie about in his night clothes all day, now would it?"

"No, Papa!" Amy laughed, as Christine finished weaving her hair into two adorable little braids.

Christine could not help but avert her eyes and blush slightly at the ideas that sprung to her mind at his suggestion. Having Erik confined to their bed for an extended period of time was suddenly, and unexpectedly, a pleasing idea to her – yet she continued to chide herself for her wanton thoughts. She had only just come to the conclusion she wished to attempt marital relations, how could she even know if she would enjoy it? Yet with every touch and kiss Erik had bestowed upon her, the signs were all pointing to that happy conclusion. She only hoped she was right.

Erik was not oblivious to the blush on his wife's cheeks and he felt a measure of pride that his mere words could affect her so. Oh yes, if he could find a legitimate excuse to get out of this blasted dinner party, he would do so without hesitation, all in hopes of spending more time alone with Christine. But for now, he simply grabbed some clothes and made his way out of the room to bathe and dress in private.

.

.

The day passed quickly, yet the rain failed to let up one bit, keeping everyone inside to avoid the downpour. The rain meant a bit of a holiday for many of the servants, the gardeners especially, but to Robert the rain only meant frustration and disappointment. He spend most of his time with his nose pressed against the window, staring out at the stables across the way, longing desperately to see his new pony. They were able to coax him away to play a game or two as well as eat some lunch but then he was right back to the glass, staring out at the falling showers.

Later, when the children were both engrossed in a simple game, Erik sat down next to Christine on the settee and inquired as to what she intended on wearing that evening. He had expected her to have chosen something days ago but instead she looked up at him in shock.

"I…I had not thought about that," she confessed. "For so long I owned only one style of dress and since I came here, Meg picks out my attire most days. I know I have quite a few fancy gowns in the closet…but which one should I choose? I do not want to be overdressed, or heaven forbid, underdress and shame you."

"You could never do such a thing," Erik assured her, letting his fingers glide down the side of her cheek and come to rest beneath her chin, tipping her eyes up to meet his. "You are beauty itself and it is you who should be ashamed to be seen with _me_. Never the other way around." He could tell that she intended to say something to the contrary, but he quickly headed her off by continuing. "Madam Giry is very knowledgeable about society and customs, I am sure she could advise you on which dress in your wardrobe would be most fitting for this evening's affair."

"Thank you, I will do that," Christine nodded, but then her face grew concerned and she leaned in a bit, so that the children might not hear her next words. "Erik, you said that Antoinette has been your employee for only four years, do you know much about her past?"

"Some…why do you ask?" Erik was instantly concerned over Christine's question. He had been under the impression that she liked his kindly housekeeper… was she now suspicious of her for some reason?

"When you were away, I heard someone crying late at night," she began, looking down at her hands so that she did not notice the sudden flash of fear in Erik's eyes. "I had heard it once before, the night I first arrived, but this time I chose to investigate."

"Christine…" Erik began, already dreaming up a host of lies to throw her off the track but her next words stopped him.

"I know I should not have been snooping but the sound was so heartbreaking, all I wanted to do was see if I could help," Christine continued in an attempt to defend herself. "The cries were coming from the locked door at the entrance of the east wing but when I knocked, Madam Giry came out. What secrets or sorrows could she possibly have in her past that would merit such despair? Have you ever asked about her history or what could drive her to such anguish?"

"You say that it was _Antoinette_ whom you heard crying?" Erik repeated, relief flooding his body at her apparent misunderstanding.

"Yes, she said you allow her the uses of that room to seek out privacy and solitude but I think she uses it as a refuge to secretly vent her grief and sorrow," Christine concluded.

Erik was shocked and a bit confused. Had Antoinette truly taken the fall for his secrets, misdirecting Christine so that she thought it was _her_ crying in the room? He could just kiss his housekeeper for this…he really could! But now he had to deal with the concerns of his wife, the gentle soul who would not abide anyone being sad around her, wishing only to help. He was torn…should he be cross with her for snooping, or love her all the more for her caring spirit? Erik decided to love her twice as much.

"Christine…" he slowly began again, not wanting to say too much, yet wishing to assuage her curiosity. "Madam Giry has had a rather rough time of it, yet she is a woman of great fortitude and character. If she feels the need to express her pain from time to time in this manner, I do not think we should interfere with that." Erik could tell she did not agree with his assessment and he reached out to take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I will of course speak with her and offer any support I can, yet in the end, it is her life and we should not overstep our bounds."

Christine nodded sadly, seeing the wisdom of Erik's words, but she still could not help but feel a stab of pain in her heart over the woman's sorrow.

"I understand, and I will let the matter drop," she told him, relishing the feel of his warm hand in hers, offering her reassurance. "But please do speak with her. It would make me feel ever so much better if you did."

"That I will," he smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Oh yes, Antoinette was certain to get a talking to…and perhaps a raise as well!

Now that the matter of Antoinette had been addressed, Christine was about to reveal what she had recalled concerning her dream while Erik was away. He had asked her to keep him up to date on anything that she might remember and the revelation about the medallion was most assuredly news worthy. Yet before Christine could open her mouth to speak, Robert approached and tugged on his father's shirt sleeve.

"Papa?" he asked, gaining both their attention. "Are you sure we have to wait till the rain stops before we go see Mr. Cricket?"

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed the little boy, pulling him down on his lap as he began to tickle him, sending the lad into fits of giggles.

"Yes, you must learn patience," he told him. "We can go see your pony the moment the rain stops and not a minute sooner." And that, Erik hoped, would be the last of that.

Christine was soon enjoying the pleasant moment so much that she hated to spoil it with talk of her dream and the medallion. There would be plenty of time for that discussion later, right now all she wished to do was spend time with her family.

.

.

Evening found Christine upstairs with both Madam Giry and Meg assisting her to get ready for the party, with Amy sitting cross legged on the bed watching with rapt attention.

"You look like a fairy princess, Christine," the little girl told her as she slipped into an emerald green ball gown Antoinette had recommended. Her hair had been coiffed in an elegant style with tiny ringlets left to fall around her neck and face, framing it perfectly. She was just slipping into her shoes when there came a knock at the door, announcing her husband.

"May I come in?" he asked as he peeked around the door, not wishing to intrude if she was not quite ready yet.

"Of course," Christine assured him, not wanting anyone to think she would ever bar him from his own sleeping quarters.

Yet when Erik did enter, he found that he was unable to speak due to the beauty he beheld. Green was most definitely her color, the gown setting off the natural glow that always seemed to surround her.

"Christine…" he began, searching for the right words to express his appreciation. "You do take a man's breath away."

She wished she could think of something to say back, some witty or clever remark but she found all she could do was look at the floor as her face colored in a blush. He too was dressed for the evening, his best black evening suit with a pristine white shirt and matching cravat tied perfectly around his neck.

"Come, Meg," Madam Giry said with a knowing smile. "I think we are quite done here." She then held out her hand to Amy, urging the little girl to depart with them and give the two their privacy.

"But who is going to help her finish getting ready?" the little girl asked, following them to the door but looking back with concern.

"I think your papa can manage quite nicely," the older woman laughed, shutting the door quietly behind them.

"Antoinette is right, I take a lot of pleasure in serving as your lady's maid from time to time," Erik assured her.

"Yet I find that I am completely dressed. So there is no service I presently require from you, good sir." Christine laughed.

"No? None at all?" he asked teasingly, as he ran his hand up her arm, relishing the feel of the satin beneath is fingers.

His innuendo once more won him a blush from his innocent wife but she felt the heat begin to build in her blood at his touch.

"Well then," Erik continued with a knowing smile. "Perhaps we need to _find_ something for me to help you with. Something like…this?" As he spoke he produced a velvet box from his coat pocket and eagerly held it out to her.

"What is this?" she asked, excitement lighting her eyes. She was still unfamiliar with the receiving of gifts, and the fact that this one came from her husband made it all the more special.

"Open it and see," he prompted, obviously impatient for her to do so.

Christine slowly lifted the lid, revealing a stunning emerald necklace and matching earrings. She was in awe at the number of green gemstones that surrounded the golden chain, counting a dozen small ones with a large-pendant like jewel in the center.

"Oh Erik," she gasped, her free hand covering her mouth in shock. "It is beautiful…more than beautiful, it is exquisite."

"It shall be…but only once it graces your neck," he insisted, taking the necklace from the box and positioning himself behind her in order to help her put it on. Once the job was done he let his fingers glide across her neck and shoulders as he brought his lips close to her ear. "Now it is perfect," he assured her in a breathy whisper, his voice leaving tingles behind on her bare skin.

It took a few moments for Christine to gain control of herself as she reached up to touch the necklace that lay across her now pink skin. She knew she would treasure it forever.

"It matches my dress so well, how did you know I would wear this one tonight?" she asked, turning towards her vanity mirror in order to admire it for herself.

"I confess that I cornered Antoinette earlier and strongly suggested that she encourage you to wear the green one," he admitted, a wolfish grin on his face. "You see I ordered the necklace the day we received the invitation for tonight's dinner. After you had mentioned to Amy that you did not have much in the way of jewelry, I thought it best that I rectify that as soon as possible. Mr. Bower informed me of its arrival this morning, just in time."

"Erik I love it," she assured him once more, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "I will feel like the Queen of England in such finery."

"As you should," he smiled, enjoying the pleasure of treating his wife to gifts very much. "Now, try on the earrings and then we can be going."

"Oh yes, of course," she agreed, turning to the vanity once more. When she saw her small wooden box that contained her mother's earrings, she had a sudden thought. "Oh Erik, I have something for you as well."

"You do?" he asked, perplexed. He knew of only one thing she had that he wanted but now was certainly not the time for that…although given enough coaxing he would be willing to make an exception. He watched as she opened her rustic looking treasure box and removed the cravat pin she had claimed was her father's and came towards him.

"Would you do me the pleasure of accepting this memento?" she asked hopefully. "I do not remember much about my parents but I know I loved them and they loved me. So it would please me greatly to know that this pin is once again worn by a man I…" she stopped there, not quite sure she – or even he – was ready for that word just yet "…I care very deeply for," she finished, pulling the blunt end from the long pin as she looked up at him hopefully.

Erik had noticed her hesitation, his breath catching in his throat as he had prayed she would speak the word he had just recently admitted to himself. The word _love_. But perhaps she was not ready yet…she was still exploring her feelings and he was willing to wait. He was not sure how long he could wait to reveal his new found emotions but he knew he needed to wait for her – hoping that the subject she wished to discuss would lead into his confession quite nicely. For if she did indeed wish to take their relationship to the next level, he would not let it transpire without his declaration of undying love. No…it would need to be expressed first, at least by him.

"I would be honored to accept such a cherished family treasure," he assured her, standing still while she reached up and pinned it in place.

"Now it will forever be _our_ family heirloom," she told him, touching it reverently once it was in place, then taking a step back and admiring how it looked on him. A heavy silence fell between them, both mulling over thoughts that were amazingly similar in nature, yet went unspoken for the time being. Christine broke the moment when she remembered that Erik had suggested she put on her earrings so that they could depart. Quickly doing so, she took his offered arm and the two of them headed down stairs.

At the foyer they were greeted by Mr. Bower, Madam Giry and Amy, all ready to see them off to their dinner party. The solemn butler held up Erik's long overcoat, helping him into it as he explained that he had Joseph waiting outside in the covered carriage to take them to the Kingsford's home.

"You will need this, it is quite chilly tonight," Antoinette told Christine, holding out a long white cloak as she assisted her in putting it on, fastening it at the neck. "And your necklace looks beautiful with that dress, just as I knew it would be," she whispered, giving her a playful wink.

Christine was about to thank her for her covert suggestion, when a little voice broke the moment.

"Papa, Papa!" Robert yelled, rushing down the stairs towards them. "The rain has stopped! We can go see Mr. Cricket now! Come on, hurry up!"

Erik looked taken back, not sure what to say in the face of the boy's obvious expectations. There was no way around it…he would not be pleased.

"Robert, I can't take you out to the stables now. Christine and I are leaving for the dinner party. You knew we were going out tonight," he reminded the boy.

"But you promised!" he pouted, crossing his little arms over his chest as his bottom lip began to quiver. "You said the minute the rain stopped we could go…you said so yourself."

"I know what I said but the fact remains that the carriage is waiting outside and we have to leave," Erik continued, his voice becoming a bit more stern. "If it had quit raining during the day I would have taken you just as I promised. But now it is too late, it is dark and we are leaving. You will have to wait till morning."

"NO!" Robert shouted, stamping his foot in a fit of temper. "You promised! You said we could go and now you won't take me. You are a liar!" And with tears now in his eyes, the little boy ran up the stairs, not even looking behind as Erik called after him.

"Let him go," Antoinette instructed, placing her hand on Erik's arm reassuringly. "Rose and I will see to him after you leave. He is young, he might be angry now but he will forget all about it come morning. Just wait and see."

"I hope you are right," Erik mumbled, his pain filled eyes still trained on the stairs the boy had just used to escape.

"Erik, if you want to go after him, I do not mind being late," Christine offered, hating to see such tension between the two. "Or we don't have to go at all."

"Nonsense, you both are dressed and ready to leave," Antoinette scolded.

"She is right, we can't let Robert's little tantrum stop us from going," Erik surmised. "If we stayed home, then he will come to believe that all he has to do to get his way is to throw a fit. I will sit him down and we will have a man to man discussion about his behavior tomorrow." A sudden tug at his overcoat caught his attention and he looked down to see Amy there.

"I am being very good, Papa," the little girl informed him, making sure he was well aware of this. "Rose says throwing a tantrum is wrong and I would never do that."

"Yes, you are being very well behaved, Amy," Erik smiled, reaching out to gently tug on one of her braids lovingly.

"So…" she continued, rocking back and forth on her heals as she looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "Does that mean I get my kitten now?"

"That, I believe, is a conversation for tomorrow morning as well, otherwise you might be stuck here all night," Antoinette laughed, gently pushing both adults towards the door. "You two go and have a good time. Don't worry about a thing."

With no further coaxing needed, Erik and Christine soon found themselves seated in the carriage and heading off to Lord Kingsford's home and their first evening out as a married couple.

On the ride there, Christine debated if she should share her news with Erik, concerning her most recent decision. But it was quite evident that Robert's accusing words were affecting her husband more than he was letting on. The fact that he had not spoken or allowed his eyes to stray even once from the glass window, made her decide to save her news for the ride home.

Christine was not entirely comfortable knowing that it was Joseph driving the carriage but at least the unsettling man was not inside with them but instead at the front in his own canopied compartment, separated by a solid wall. As long as she did not have to see or hear him, Christine was able to forget he existed and instead concentrate on the evening's activities. She had not realized till then, just how excited she was to be getting out and meeting new people. Years of being cooped up in the convent school had left her life devoid of social invitations and the idea of spending a night out with her husband had her practically giddy. She knew Erik did not share her enthusiasm for the function but she admired him all the more knowing he was doing this for her. So reaching over, she took his hand in her own, squeezing it gently to let him know that she appreciated him for it.

The act seemed to startle him, drawing him out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the present.

"Forgive me, my dear," he muttered, lifting her hand to his lips as he gave it an apologetic kiss. "I have been miles away and not paying the proper amount of attention to you, which is a sin."

"Perhaps a bit insulting but hardly a sin," Christine laughed, encircling his arm with her own and hugging her body closer to his, her head leaning on his shoulder. "I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight. I know you prefer not to attend such functions but I want to thank you for giving in to my request."

"It is no hardship to indulge such a pretty little bride such as you," he assured her, leaning down to place a kiss on her head, careful not to mess up her hair. "Besides, Amir will be there, so I should not die of complete boredom. If nothing else, the Persian is always good for a few laughs."

His words brought a smile to Christine's lips and she did her best to hold back a retort about their odd relationship. Anyone would be hard pressed to find two more devoted friends, yet neither one would ever admit as much. It was then that the coach slowed and a rapping was heard from the front of the carriage. Erik leaned forward and slid open the small wooden door that provided a means of communication between driver and passenger.

"We have arrived, sir," Joseph announced. "But it might be a bit before I can let you out, there seems to be quite a line."

"A line?" Erik questioned, unlatching the window and opening it a bit so that he could get a better view of what lay ahead. "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Christine asked, quickly set on edge by her husband's apparent displeasure.

"There are at least six other carriages ahead of us, all waiting to deposit guests to this so called 'small dinner party'!" Erik fumed, sitting back in the coach with a look of misery on his face.

"I…I just assumed it was a small gathering…a few friends for dinner…I never thought it was a full blown party." Christine gasped, horrified that they had somehow misunderstood.

"As did I," he confessed, rubbing his forehead through his mask. "But there is no getting out of it now."

"We could turn around and go home, send our regrets tomorrow and claim some sudden illness?" she suggested, not wanting to force Erik into something he was uncomfortable with.

"No. I promised Amir we would be here," he sighed. "If he is already inside and we turn around now, I will never hear the end of it." He reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It would appear, my dear, that we are stuck."

The unloading of passengers took less time than expected and soon it was Erik and Christine's turn to exit their coach. As Joseph slapped the reigns and drove off, Christine could not help but feel the stable master's eyes on her as they headed up the steps. She was never so glad to enter the foyer and be out of his sight. That man just made her feel so uneasy and she wondered if she should mention it to Erik. Yet, who was she to come in and start dictating who was to stay or go at Summercrest? Apparently Erik trusted him enough or he would not have hired him…right?

"Welcome!" George Kingsford greeted them as they entered, reaching out to vigorously shake Erik's hand. Clair was standing next to her husband, also dutifully receiving their guests. She approached Christine and taking hold of both her hands, leaned in and placed a kiss on each cheek.

"I am so pleased you agreed to come tonight," Clair confessed. "I was afraid after the horrendous first impression we made at your wedding, you might choose to shun us for life."

"Oh no, you were most kind to me that night and I thank you for it, as well as the invitation." Christine meant it too. If it had not been for Clair she was certain the other three would have eaten her alive.

"I am pleased to hear it and I truly hope we can become good friends," Clair continued, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "I will search you out later so that we can chat, but now you have to excuse us, for we mustn't shirk our duties as host." And with a bow and a curtsy, the two turned to welcome the next arrivals.

Erik and Christine left them to continue greeting their guests and headed into the main ballroom.

"If you wish, I will make sure to come save you, should you be cornered by her later on," Erik whispered with a smirk on his lips.

"No!" Christine replied, sounding shocked by his suggestion. "I am anxious to speak with her. I would enjoy having Clair as a friend."

Erik stopped and looked at her, a mixture of confusion and guilt on his face.

"Have I isolated you too much at Summercrest?" he asked. "I may not wish for company or parties like this but I fear because of it, I have in essence condemned you to a life of solitude."

Christine reached up and cupped his masked cheek, smiling at him warmly.

"We are here, are we not?" she asked, gesturing around her. "And I hardly had to pester you at all to agree. So no…I do not feel isolated."

Once more Erik's heart swelled with love for his perfect little wife. Oh what had he ever done to deserve her?

"Well, in that case, you must promise me something," he implored, looking at her with all the seriousness he could muster. "You must swear that if _I _get cornered by George Kingsford, _you _will come and rescue me!"

This had Christine dissolving into a fit of giggles as they continued their way through the ballroom and Erik reveled in the sound.

The party was in full swing and after a while they both had to admit they were enjoying themselves very much. Amir had found the laughing couple quite easily and was currently off getting Christine a glass of punch, when Erik saw the Kingsfords approaching.

"Erik, I was hoping I might steal you away to the gentleman's lounge for a glass of Napoleon cognac," George offered, slapping him on the back.

Erik was about to respectfully decline, when Amir appeared behind the host.

"Did you say Napoleon cognac?" he asked, handing Christine a glass of the watered down punch.

"Of course you are welcome to join us, Mr. Dessan, I assure you that it is aged to perfection," he offered.

Erik noted that the man showed no sign of discriminating against his friend, which led him to believe that perhaps he had misjudged the over-talkative gentleman.

"I promise to keep your wife well entertained in your absence," Clair assured him, clasping hold of Christine's arm as if to prove her pledge.

When Erik still seemed to hesitate, Christine gave him a bright smile. "You go have fun in the gentleman's lounge, I will be just fine here with Clair."

Her assurance seemed to do the trick, that and the eager looks Amir was now giving him at the mention of the expensive alcohol Lord Kingsford was offering. With a sigh of resignation, Erik at last gave in.

"I won't be long," he guaranteed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He lowered his voice and whispered his next words in her ear. "If you need help, just sing out and I will come running."

"You do the same," she quietly answered back, the two of them exchanging amused looks as they parted. Christine followed him with her eyes until the three men disappeared behind two thick mahogany doors, stealing him from her view.

"Come, Christine," Clair urged, pulling her towards a group of pleasant looking women. "Let me introduce you to some of the nicer ladies here tonight. I would hate for you to judge us all on the example of Carlotta Harring."

.

.

Erik had just accepted the glass of cognac from George and decided that if he nursed the drink for a while, it might save him from having to add much to the conversation. Not that it was a problem, for George could talk the ear off the most stubborn mule. Yet as he listened and nodded politely, Erik realized, that while dull, the man was at least good natured and not overly greedy or conniving like so many other aristocrats seemed to be. When George and Amir both headed off to find a fresh bottle of cognac, Erik finished his own drink, setting the glass down as he planned to make a hasty exit and rejoin Christine. But all thoughts of escape fled his mind when he heard a voice behind him say his name.

"Erik Morant. I must say this is quite a surprise."

Erik turned around slowly, feeling his hands clenching into fists of rage by what he saw. He grit his teeth in hopes of keeping in the string of curse words that now fought to spill out.

What the hell was _he _doing back in the area?

.

.

**Oh oh oh! WHO is THAT? I get the feeling that he is not someone that Erik is overly fond of...what do you think?**

**So...now we have tossed in a new character for you all to love or hate. Your choice...I won't judge.**

**Erik you gone and done it now with more of your lies to Christine about Antoinette and the crying coming from that room, as well as breaking your promise to Robert...that will come back to bite you in the butt!**

**I have good news...and worrisome news. The good news is that I am finished editing and ready to publish Mystery Behind the Mask on Kindle and in book form on Amazon. **

**The worrisome news is that I am concerned I that you might buy it, read the whole thing in one sitting and then I will never hear from you again and I would sorely miss your reviews! Yet on the other hand I would LOVE it if you did buy it. But if you don't, that is OK, I will still be posting it here on line just like I have been.  
**

**So, question is... IF I do put it up for sale...and you buy it...will you PROMISE to still give me feedback on it - especially the upcoming chapters when the mysteries are revealed? Will you? Please?** ** I await your reply with baited breath!**


	25. Chapter 25

.

**Another EARLY posting...why? I will explain at the end of the chapter.**

.

Guest Reviews

**Melstrife:** Still loving your theories! No, Erik can not keep things hidden from Christine forever. I think even HE is beginning to realize that. I just hope it isn't too late when he figures that out. Yep, there is a new person...and you will find out who as soon as you read this chapter. WHAT? Children throw fits? Who knew? Glad to hear I can count on you for future reviews! I hate to lose ANY of my readers!

**Musicalis:** Thanks for liking my story. Yes, cliffhangers are often a pain...but they keep you coming back for more!

** Roseilea:** Where did you go? Did I scare you away?

**.**

**OK now let's go find out WHO this person is...and why Erik seems to have an adverse reaction to him. Oh the suspense! **

**Also as you are reading - the music I envision that will be playing is Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker Suite (at about 1:50 minutes in when the music really begins to pick up). Probably not cannon for the time, but in my mind that is what is playing. ;)  
**

.

**Chapter 25**

.

.

"Not a pleasant one, from where I stand," Erik retorted, hating everything about the older man who stood in front of him. "What are you doing here, Simon?"

"The same as you, I suppose. Enjoying the fine hospitality of Lord Kingsford," the man explained, lifting up the glass of alcohol he held in his hand. "I may not be in this part of the country often but the Radcliff name still holds sway and I find myself invited to most social events. Speaking of, I hear congratulations are in order. Your father was kind enough to notify me of your recent wedding. Unfortunately I was otherwise engaged and unable to attend."

"You were _not_ missed," Erik assured him.

"Come now, where are your manners, boy?" Simon scolded, yet the evil grin never left his lips. "Is that anyway to speak to an old friend? Can we not be civil?"

"You are no friend of mine! Neither was that sorry excuse of a son you whelped. Good riddance is all I can say!" Erik spat, stepping forward, more than ready for any confrontation that might arise over his scathing words. Simon Radcliff was still a large man, tall and in relatively good shape, but Erik had youth and hate on his side…he was pretty sure he could take him.

"You watch your tongue, boy, or I will see that it is cut from your disrespectful mouth," Simon threatened, his ice blue eyes shooting daggers at the defiant man in front of him. Yet after a few seconds, the condescending stare returned and he seemed to regain his composure. "Now wouldn't that be something, not only hideously deformed but mute as well. Your poor bride already has so much to deal with, you would not wish to inflict any more humiliation on her, now would you?"

"You leave my wife out of this," Erik threatened, taking another step closer.

"Oh yes, what was her name again…_Christine_, was it not?" Radcliff continued, either not aware he was treading on dangerous ground or too stupid to care. "From what I was told, she is an innocent little convent girl and niece of Maximillian Daae. Or was I misinformed?"

Erik was a bit taken back by the knowledge Simon had about his wife. Of what concern was it to him who Erik had married and why did the hairs stand up on the back of his neck at the familiar way he had mentioned her uncle's name? What was Radcliff hiding?

"I said to leave my wife out of this. Do not make the mistake of forcing me to repeat myself a third time," Erik hissed, his tenuous hold on his temper being stretched to the limit.

"I see that you are quite protective of her," Radcliff continued, taking a long drink from his glass before setting it down next to Erik's. "But then again you always were rather obsessive about the women in your life, were you not? Is she here tonight, I would love to meet her and convey my congratulations in person."

That did it! Erik lunged forward and had the older man by the throat in the blink of an eye, slamming him against the wall with a force that rattled the paintings around them. It would not take much to snap the man's neck – and from the sudden look of fear in Simon's eyes, he knew it as well. By killing Radcliff, he would be doing the world a favor, Erik thought, and his fingers inched their way beneath his finely tied cravat, searching out his racing pulse.

"You stay away from me and my family, or so help me…" Erik growled, but a hand on his shoulder halted his next words. He turned his head to the side, seeing Amir looking at him with concern in his eyes. Erik was about to shake him off, unwilling to halt his plans, when he heard George Kingsford's voice from behind him.

"Do we have a problem here, gentlemen?" he asked, his tone a mixture of confusion and fear.

Out of the corner of his eye, Erik could see that a small crowd had formed, all of them silently staring at the confrontation before them. Simon Radcliff had been a thorn in Erik's side for years now, a prying, tenacious villain to be sure and one he wished to rid himself of once and for all. Yet he knew killing the man _this _way would only result in his own incarceration on charges of murder. While a month ago that threat might not have stayed his hand, now he had a wife, his beautiful Christine, who depended on him and he would not let her down. So with a heavy sigh, he released the man's neck and took a step back.

Simon staggered, his knees giving way a bit as he leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. He shot Erik a look of pure hatred as he tried to right the cravat that now hung loosely around his neck, doing his best to regain his composure.

"No…there is no trouble here," Radcliff assured his host, clearing his throat a few times before he spoke, his voice now harsh and raspy. "But I believe I have had enough socializing for one evening," he continued, his cold eyes shooting daggers at Erik. He then looked at George Kingsford and gave a quick nod before turning on his heels and leaving the room.

"I knew extending that man an invitation was a mistake," George said, downing the last of his cognac in one nervous gulp. "I just did not know how to refuse him when he cornered me the other day and all but begged to be put on the guest list."

"He _requested_ an invitation?" Erik asked, shock and a bit of fear evident in his voice.

"Yes, for he certainly would not have been one of_ my_ chosen guests," Lord Kingsford said with a look of disgust. "The Radcliff name is tied to far too many shady deals for my tastes. But like I said, I did not know how to turn him down." He then looked at the door the vile man had just left through and gave a snort of derision. "Yet after this display, I will not be making the mistake twice!"

"I must apologize for my part in this rude scene." Erik began, now feeling badly for disgracing his host with his murderous intentions. "Simon Radcliff and I have never seen eye to eye and I…"

"Please, Erik, no need for that!" George broke in, holding his hand up to stop him. "I am the one who should apologize for subjecting a man such as him upon one of my honored guests. You have done me a favor by encouraging him to leave. I am just glad he only guzzled down _one_ glass of my expensive cognac before he left. Any more than that and I would truly deem this evening a travesty!"

Lord Kingsford's jest had the desired effect and any who were still listening to the conversation began to laugh and go back to mingling. Even Erik and Amir were forced to chuckle a bit at the man's humor.

"I appreciate your understanding on the matter, but please know that I intended no dishonor to you, or your other guests, in any way," Erik guaranteed him.

"None was felt, I assure you," George nodded, placing his hand on Erik's shoulder, conveying that the matter was closed. "Now, may I offer you another glass of cognac?"

"No, thank you," Erik declined. "It was a marvelous vintage but I believe it is time I return to my wife. I do not want her to think I prefer your cognac over her company."

"Ahhh, yes," Lord Kingsford laughed. "Such is the way with a new wife. I hope you continue such feelings long into your marriage, Erik. And with a bride as beautiful as your Christine, I am sure it will not be too much of a trial to maintain." He then lifted his empty glass to Erik in a form of salute and excused himself with the intent to find a bottle to see that it was refilled.

When they were alone, Amir pulled Erik aside with a worried look on his face.

"What did he say to you?" he asked in a hushed tone. "And why do you think he was so adamant about getting invited here tonight?"

"I don't know and _that_ is what has me worried," Erik told his friend, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "He seemed to know far too much about the goings on at Summercrest for my liking. Including things about Christine, which has my nerves on edge. Do you think he might have been trying to threaten me somehow by mentioning her?"

"I would not put anything past that damned Radcliff clan!" Amir fumed, the rage in his own eyes now rivaling Erik's. "I thought that things were over once William was dead and buried. However, it seems we may have cut the head off the wrong snake!"

"Hush! And mind your words," Erik hissed, looking around to make sure his friend had not been overheard. "Now is not the time or place to be bringing up the past, especially not Radcliff's blasted son. We will need to look into this and see if Simon is up to no good, or if it was simply by chance that he showed up tonight. Now…keep your wits about you and don't do anything foolish." Erik scanned the room once more but seeing that no one seemed the least bit interested in them, he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't believe for one moment that Radcliff showing up was a coincidence but there was nothing he could do about it now. "I think it is time we rejoin the party, I am anxious to make sure Christine is safe after what Simon said about her. I will not have her paying for my past sins."

"_Our_ sins," Amir amended, not wanting Erik to take all the blame…or the credit.

"Well, yours or mine, Christine will not be the one to suffer for it," Erik insisted. "Now, let's get out of here."

.

.

The dinner buffet was just being served when Erik and Amir emerged from the gentleman's lounge. Searching the room quickly, they were able to spot Christine immediately. Erik breathed a sigh of relief, the mere sight of her laughing and talking eased his fears considerably. She was speaking with Clair and a small group of women, the majority of which he did not know, yet that suited him just fine. Women who had no prior knowledge of him seemed to have a lot less to gossip about. Erik knew he had been a bit of a rake in his youth but tragedy - and a mask - had a way of maturing a man quickly and well beyond his years.

Slipping up behind her, he lightly placed his hand on her waist, his touch making her jump with a start, turning around with a look of fear on her face – yet it eased into a smile at the sight of him.

"If you ladies will excuse us, I wish to spend some time with my wife," Erik's smooth velvety tones seemed to not only affect Christine but several of the other woman in the group as well. Erik, of course, did not notice this, his attention being solely directed at the beauty before him.

Christine willingly bid the women farewell and allowed herself to be escorted over to the buffet table, where they were able to pick and choose a light meal to sup upon. Amir had found the beverage table and was now on his second glass of champagne, hardly touching the fare that had been laid out for the guests. Erik was a bit concerned about his friend. He knew that Radcliff's appearance had stirred up a lot of bad memories, for the both of them. Yet, where Erik had Christine to soothe his troubled heart, Amir did not. He would have to watch the Persian closely and make sure his friend did not succumb to dark thoughts this evening.

"Are you having a good time, Christine?" Erik asked, as he handed her a glass of the sparkling wine.

"Yes, I am," she assured him, taking a sip of the bubbly liquid, liking how it tickled her nose a bit as she drank. "Clair introduced me to several very nice ladies this evening and I enjoyed talking with them quite a lot."

"I am glad to hear that," he nodded, happy that Clair had spoken true and looked after his bride well. "Were those ladies the only people you met tonight? No one else came to speak with you…no gentlemen perhaps?" Erik realized he was being a bit obvious but he needed to know if Radcliff had accosted her in any way during his absence.

"Any gentlemen?" Christine asked, cocking her head to the side quizzically. "Why Erik Morant…are you jealous?" She tried to hide her smile behind her gloved hand.

"Of course I am jealous!" Erik assured her, knowing it was true even if that had not been the original reason for his asking. "I told you before, I protect what is mine and I assured you, Lady Morant…_you are mine_."

This made Christine smile even more but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her excitement at his statement as well. She could practically feel the desire radiating off of him and she wondered if he could sense the same coming from her.

"Then it will ease your mind, Master Erik, to know that other than waiting staff carrying trays of _hors d'oeuvres__,_ no gentleman dared approach me this evening." She then reached out and covered his hand with her own, giving it a little squeeze. "Besides, I believe that no man, except you, would have been brave enough to approach such an imposing group of women as we appeared to be."

"Nothing will ever stop me from getting to you, my little daisy," he assured her, lifting her hand to his lips and gracing it with a kiss.

"Would you two prefer I left you alone?" Amir broke in, having just returned from his latest pilgrimage to the beverage table, a fresh glass of something in his hand.

"I am tempted to say yes, however it looks as if you need more looking after than either of us," Erik retorted, reaching out and taking the glass away from his friend, earning a scathing look for his efforts. "I think you have had enough."

"Your husband can be a real wet blanket at times, Christine," Amir pouted as he sat down next to them with a grumble.

"Perhaps I am but I would prefer that you remain conscious for the remainder of the evening and not make a spectacle of yourself," Erik told him, giving him a stern look.

"Very well. I will do as you ask and _try_ to comport myself with dignity," Amir assured them. "But the odds are not in your favor."

"Good thing I am not a gambling man then," Erik chuckled sympathetically, knowing full well the turmoil his friend was experiencing. He was certain that seeing him so happy with Christine was only adding to his friend's depression. Damn Radcliff for showing up and causing all this trouble!

Soon the musicians began to play a lively tune and many of the guests paired off and began to partake in some traditional English dances. Erik had never been one for the stilted, orchestrated steps of weaving in and out of a line, circling their partners as they bowed and touched hands only occasionally. They made him feel like he was marching in some procession rather than dancing. There were always so many steps or hand movements to memorize, leaving him concentrating more on them than his partner. Yet Christine seemed to be fascinated with it all, her eyes alight with excitement as she watched the other guests all move in synch.

"They are like graceful birds, all flying in formation," she whispered, never once taking her eyes off of the dance floor as she went to stand at the edge so she could see them better. Erik set his glass of sparkling wine down on a nearby table and followed her, taking up his position at her left side.

"Would you like to join them?" Erik found himself asking, quite surprised to hear the words springing from his own lips. Yet the idea of doing anything with Christine was no chore, even if it was dancing.

"Oh no, I wouldn't know how," she confessed, a panicked look on her face. "I have never danced like that before and I would feel extremely out of place."

"Do you know any dances?" Erik pressed, wondering just how sheltered she had been in the convent school.

"Well, occasionally when the sisters had gone to bed, one of the older girls from France would show us some dances she had learned at her previous boarding school." Christine's eyes took on a wistful look as she recalled those secret midnight lessons in their dorm rooms. "The only ones I ever seemed to do fairly well with were the ones that were face to face and required a partner – and only if _they_ took the lead. I am afraid, even then, I stepped on the girl's toes more often than not." This last revelation left her giggling as she remembered her clumsiness.

Erik was quiet for a moment, allowing her to continue to watch uninterrupted. He had not given any thought to dancing, since he had not expected this to be a full ball. And while he did not wish to bring any undue attention to himself – after all, his mask did that well enough for him – he suddenly found he wanted nothing more than to hold Christine in his arms as he whirled her around the room. Dancing was often described as a prelude to more intimate activities, many of the movements and positions mimicking such sensual acts. While he would never dream of displaying his more personal affections for Christine in such a public forum, he was not restricted from merely dancing with his wife. Oh no, this was not only allowed but expected as well.

So taking a few steps back he slipped away without her noticing and approached the conductor, pulling him aside for a moment. After making his request and slipping him a rather large amount of money in order to see his wishes were carried out, Erik made his way back to where Christine stood. Amir had noticed his friend's absence and had moved in to look after Christine, as a good friend should. He gave Erik a quizzical look once he returned, silently asking him with the raise of an eyebrow what he was up to. Erik ignored Amir and instead continued to look straight ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the dancers. When the song ended and the group gave a respectful bow to their partners and left the floor, Erik took a step forward, taking hold of Christine gently at the elbow.

"May I have this dance, Lady Morant?" he asked, causing her to look up at him in surprise.

"I…I told you, I can't do these dances," she insisted, pulling back slightly, yet he would not be deterred.

"It shall not be one of those but instead one you are more familiar with," he assured her, watching her face as the musicians struck up a beautiful waltz, causing many more couples to flock to the dance floor in eager anticipation.

"How did you…" she began, but stopped when she saw his wolfish smile, obviously pleased with himself for orchestrating this.

"Just say yes," he urged, once more leading her forward as the music began to swell around them.

Christine was helpless to resist and soon found herself standing among the throng of guests as they whirled around her.

"Erik, I really don't think I can do this," she pleaded as he positioned her one hand on his shoulder and took the other in his own. He then pulled her towards him, molding her body to his as he held her around the waist, his grip both gentle and possessive.

"Just follow my lead, ma petite marguerite, and enjoy the music," he whispered to her, his voice deep and husky.

Now completely under his spell, she locked eyes with him and began to glide in the direction he instructed her, amazed at not only his grace and poise but how they seemed to move as one. It was amazingly romantic and Christine could feel her mind begin to swim, as if she had drank too much champagne. Erik was literally seducing her with his movements right there on the dance floor...and she was loving every minute of it.

After a few turns around the room Christine was getting the hang of the steps and felt more comfortable, no longer even noticing those around her. It was then that Erik decided to change things up and pushing her a bit away from him, he took his hand from her waist and allowed his other to spin her around, holding his arm up high so that she could easy maneuver under it. He loved how graceful she was and that she seemed to trust him implicitly to lead her in the dance, following his steps wherever he took them. He heard her giggle when he pulled her back to him, a playful grin on her flushed face as he crushed her to his now heated body.

"I knew this particular dress was the right choice for tonight," Erik said proudly, as they glided on. "When I spin you, it flairs out perfectly, making you look like a spring flower in full bloom."

"Perhaps then I should ask your opinion on what I am to wear each day. Though I fear that would leave poor Meg without a job," she laughed, once more enjoying the feel of his arms around her as they continued to dance.

"I will be sure to find her a spot in the kitchen then," he assured her, enjoying her little jest. "I do hate to see good help go to waste."

"Be serious, Erik," she chided, giving his chest a playful slap for his cheekiness.

"Oh but I am, my lady," he told her, his voice once more dropping an octave so that it was deep and full of promise. "I will take an inordinate amount of pleasure in being the one to dress you each morning…after I have had the privilege of undressing you the night before." Thankfully no one had been near enough to have heard his seductive suggestion but the words had the desired effect on Christine. Erik had to laugh at the way her eyes had become large so quickly. He was not quite sure if he had crossed a line there, so to be sure, he hurriedly added, "With your permission, of course."

Christine had been waiting all evening to tell Erik that she was indeed more than ready to offer her consent on the idea and while she would not have chosen the middle of a dance-floor as the perfect setting, it now seemed more than right. So moving in even closer, if that was at all possible, she looked up into his eyes and whispered back in her most seductive voice.

"Oh you have my full permission, my husband," she told him, watching as this time it was_ his_ eyes that grew wide with surprise. "What do you think I meant to tell you last night before the children interrupted?"

Erik was so taken aback by her words that he actually stumbled a bit on the next turn, righting himself just in time to avoid making a fool of himself.

"I…I had hoped," he confessed, his throat now dry and his blood suddenly pounding mercilessly through his veins. "But I dared not assume." He couldn't believe his own ears, yet his eyes confirmed it as he saw his own emotions mirrored there in hers. "Are you sure, Christine? I do not wish to force you into something you are not ready for."

"No one is forcing me, I do not feel at all coerced," she assured him, allowing him to spin her once more. She enjoyed how tight his grip was on her when they came back together, a hold she hoped would last forever. "I am ready to give myself to you completely, Erik…if you still have want of me, that is."

The low growl that emitted from deep in his throat and the way he shut his eyes as if in pain told her all she needed to know, yet his words sealed the deal.

"I have wanted you from the moment I saw you, Christine," he assured her, allowing his feelings to overtake him. "Even when I thought you were a spy sent by my father, I wanted you. But now…now I not only_ want_, but I _desire_ as well. I desire you like no other, my innocent little daisy. If I could, I would whisk you away this very moment just to hold you in my arms."

"But I am in your arms," she coyly pointed out, a teasing smile coming to her lips. "So perhaps we should finish the dance and then see about making our departure?"

"I could not agree more, my sweet," he moaned, continuing the dance with renewed vigor, praying for the tormenting music to end.

.

Off to the side, watching the proceedings, Amir's excellent hearing made him privy to a conversation to his left. It was between two ladies, both standing there speaking behind their fans as they watched Erik and Christine spin before them.

"I wish my husband would dance with me like that," one of them said to the other with a heavy sigh.

"I wish _my_ husband looked like that!" the other one lamented. "Just see how he stares at her, as if she were the only woman in the room?"

"My husband won't even look up from the buffet table to answer my questions, let alone ask me to dance!" the first one interjected.

"I hope Lady Morant recognizes what she has. Mask or not, I would still trade places with her in a heartbeat, even for only one night, if it meant being adored like that." The first woman nodded her head in agreement and with another longing sigh, they walked away. Leaving Amir biting his lip in order to keep from laughing out loud.

Oh if only Erik had just heard what he had, his friend would have died of shock. So it would appear that the stigma of his mask no longer seemed to matter in the face of his obvious virility and sexual attraction. He wondered if he should warn Christine that she had competition but then he decided against it. For in truth, the way Erik was looking at his wife, there was no need for her to worry in the least. Amir could not recall the last time he had seen his friend this happy, this content. They had both toured Europe and his native land of Persia, sampling the pleasures of both wine and women. Yet even then, Erik had always been detached, never giving more of himself than was necessary to secure a woman for the night. But now…here he was, having placed his own desires on the shelf in order to properly woo a woman who was by all rights his to take. Dancing with Christine in such a way that made other women green with envy. As Amir glanced around, he could see that many of the other guests were watching the captivating couple as well. Even those dancing around them would slow down and stare as they spun by, all the while Erik remained completely oblivious. Yes, Christine had done a wonderful job in restoring his friend, bringing him back to life and pointing him towards the hope of love. And if he was any judge of that elusive emotion…he could tell she felt just as strongly.

Amir was truly happy for his friend, he honestly was. Yet, at the same time, seeing them dancing there together reminded him of the one night of dancing he had shared with Emily. The night that led him to realize that he too had forever lost his heart to a fair young maiden. The memory both brought him joy and heartache, as his arms once more longed to hold her and see the love in her eyes shining back at him. Yet that was no longer possible and this knowledge tore at him in ways he did not wish to feel. So heading to the beverage table, he passed over the pre-poured glasses and grabbed an entire bottle, heading off to the balcony to see about drowning his sorrows.

.

The dance finally ended and Erik did not even spare a moment to show his appreciation for the band, before pulling Christine off the dance floor and towards the door. Unfortunately their hasty departure was thwarted by Clair Kingsford as she stepped directly in their path.

"That was simply lovely," Lady Kingsford crooned, referring to the sight she had just witnessed. "Tell me, Erik, did you take dance lessons as a child or are you just simply that talented?"

"Yes, Erik…where did you learn to dance so well?" Christine chimed in, always wanting to know more about her mysterious husband.

"Yet another one of my mother's professed requirements for a gentleman," he smiled, looking down at his wife affectionately. "Though I have to admit that on this particular occasion, it did come in quite handy."

"I should say so," George agreed walking up just then and catching the end of the conversation. He was flanked by another couple and he turned to introduce them. "May I present to you, Baron Louis Bouchard and his wife Marta, the Baroness." Erik gave a polite bow and Christine the customary curtsy as they greeted the fine looking couple. "The Baron and his wife asked if I would introduce them as they wished to extend an invitation to you both."

"Indeed," Baron Bouchard agreed, stepping forward with a pleasant smile. "My wife and I are hosting our annual costume ball at the end of the month. We would be very pleased if you and your wife would attend."

"A costume ball?" Christine repeated, extremely interested by the whole idea.

"Any costume that pleases you," Marta continued, picking up on Christine's excitement. "We throw one every year and it just amazes us to see all the intricate and clever costumes the guests come up with. Please say you will come."

Christine looked up at Erik, her eyes pleading for him to comply. Of course, because she had him so enraptured, he was powerless to refuse.

"We would be honored to accept your grand invitation," he assured the Baron, extending his hand in friendship and appreciation.

"George has already informed us that you have a close friend named Amir that is here in attendance as well. Please apprise him of the fact that he will also be placed on the guest list if he wishes to accompany you. I would extend the invitation myself but I can't seem to locate the man at present." Louis confessed, looking around the room yet still not seeing the Persian anywhere.

"Yes…where has he gotten off to?" Erik mumbled, also turning about in hopes of spotting him.

"Perhaps you should go looking for him," Christine suggested, recalling the strange mood the normally jovial man had been in.

"It might be best if I did," Erik agreed. Then he turned his attention back to his host and the Baron. "Yet when he is found I fear that my wife and I must take our leave. It was a pleasure to have met you, Baron, Baroness. We look forward to your costume ball with great anticipation." With another polite bow he excused himself to search for Amir.

.

It didn't take Erik long before he found his friend slumped down on a stone bench out on the patio, the bottle he had absconded now half empty. When he saw Erik, the man did his best to straighten up but his inebriated state was too obvious to hide and after a few moments he quit trying.

"I thought you said you would behave like a gentleman this evening," Erik reminded him with an exasperated sigh.

"I said I would _try_," Amir corrected him. "Apparently I failed." He took another drink from the bottle and held it out to Erik, offering him a taste.

Erik had other ideas and taking the bottle he walked to the railing, tipping it over and watched as the last of the spirits watered the shrubbery. Amir gave a cry of protest but was too intoxicated to make any attempts to stop him.

"That was very wasteful, Erik," Amir scolded, laying his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He had begun to notice that as more time passed, he was forced to use stronger libations to ease his sorrows and he knew that Erik was aware of this as well.

"Wasteful or not, you need to get up," he told his friend as he came back over and took him by the elbow, assisting him to his feet. "Christine and I are leaving now and I think it best you let us take you home. You are in no condition to travel and I do not think the Kingsfords will appreciate putting you up for the night."

"You and Christine looked marvelous out there dancing, you know," Amir told him as he stumbled across the stone patio that led to the front entrance. Erik thought it best to make their way around the outsides of the house instead of crossing through inside, thus avoiding the chance of anyone seeing the condition of his friend. "Everyone was looking at you. I even heard a few women comment lasciviously on you and your personage, Erik. In fact, I believe you were being ogled tonight."

Erik raised an eyebrow as he continued to assist Amir to walk straight.

"Just how much _have_ you had to drink?" he asked, unwilling to believe his friend's outlandish tale.

"Not quite enough," he lamented, having hoped to consume the proper amount to dull the ache in his heart.

When they finally made it to the front steps, Erik left Amir leaning against a pillar while he went back inside and retrieved Christine, telling her of their plans to escort Amir home as well. When he saw the look of disappointment in her eyes, he quickly assured her that it would not delay their plans.

"Since Amir's estate is located just past Summercrest, we will have Joseph drop us off first and then he can make sure our inebriated friend reaches his home safe and sound." This explanation seemed to please her as much as it had Erik when he thought of it.

So together they helped their friend down the steps and towards the awaiting carriages. When they located their own, Erik was perplexed to see that Joseph was not standing there beside it, like many of the other servants were. "_Now where the blazes has he wandered off to_?" Erik grumbled, just one more delay testing his already limited patience. Opening the door he helped Christine up inside and then they both worked to get Amir in as well, watching as he flopped down on one side and immediately fell fast asleep.

"You keep an eye on him while I go find Amir's horse and see if I can locate Joseph," Erik was not happy about this at all and would have words with the man if he found him drinking or gambling instead of doing his duty.

Amir's horse was tied nearby and Erik soon had the Arabian secured to the back of the coach. His stablemaster had yet to appear and Erik was now forced to set out in search of the delinquent man. He might have simply driven the carriage home himself to save time, however the idea of being separated from Christine during the ride kept him looking for Joseph. Erik had not gone far when he saw the portly man come around the corner of one of the outer buildings. When he spotted Erik, he hurried towards him, a look of panic on his face.

"Where the hell have you been?" Erik growled when he was only a few feet away.

"I…I was just taking a walk," he stammered, still looking nervous. "I just wished to have a look around this fine estate."

"Well I do not pay you to sight see," Erik replied gruffly, turning back towards the carriage, the sheepish looking man following behind. "The next time you decide to slack off on your duties, it might be the last, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Of course. It will not happen again." Joseph assured him, quickly untying the horses and climbing into the front of the carriage.

Erik had just made it inside when the horses took off, causing the coach lurch forward. Normally he would have yelled at the man to mind how he drove – but when the jostling landed Christine into his lap, Erik found he didn't mind it one bit. She immediately began to push herself off, amid a few embarrassed apologies, but he stopped her words by pulling her back down on him securely.

"I see no need for you to move," he told her, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping Persian on the seat across from them. He had rolled over onto his side and was now facing away from them and that gave Erik all the incentive he needed to keep his wife right where she was.

"Erik!" she hissed, glancing over at Amir as she pushed her hands against his chest in protest. "What if he wakes up and sees us?"

"Then we will just have to hope he remains asleep," Erik laughed, pulling her back to him once again…but this time without protest.

"You are a truly wicked man if you think I would allow you to take such liberties with me in the back of a carriage," Christine scolded, yet her voice betrayed more mirth than outrage.

"Ah, ever my innocent little daisy," he laughed as he leaned in and began to place kisses up her jaw line until he found the spot on her neck, just below her ear. "I think you need to learn that you cannot say such things to a man, things such as you did on the dance floor, and not expect him to take advantage of any situation that might present itself."

Christine gave a gasp of surprise as she felt Erik's hand slink under the hem of her skirt and begin its way slowly up her leg, stopping midway as he let his fingers do sinful things to the tender flesh at the back of knee. She released a moan of pleasure as she shut her eyes, feeling his own lips against her neck curve into a smile at the sound. Oh that man was pure temptation and she found herself giving thanks that they were truly man and wife. For she was not sure if she would have the strength to resist him if they weren't.

"Oh really?" Christine whispered, doing her best to catch her breath as she tipped her face upwards in order to give him further access. "Is there anything else I need to learn, Master Erik?"

"You _both_ need to learn how to speak softer if you wish to carry on such intimate conversations in my presence," came the muffled voice of Amir, still curled up on the bench in front of them.

The revelation that Amir had been awake and listening to them made Christine blush deeply and scramble off of Erik's lap. She positioned herself as far away as possible from her husband, giving him a silent stare that spoke volumes. She still desired his touch and his kisses but she was not about to give into such pleasures while riding in a cab…_especially_ not one occupied by his best friend.

Erik could not help but chuckle at the mortified look on Christine's face but the fact that she was obviously not going to allow him to even hold her hand until they were back at Summercrest, left him painfully disappointed. So Erik sat back and watched out the window as the rain began to come down once more. The thunder followed soon after and even though he could see that the noise was bothering her, Christine still refused to come any closer or seek shelter in his arms like before. _Damn you Amir!_

_._

After what seemed to be the longest ride of his life, Summercrest came into view. When the coach stopped at their front steps, Erik jumped out and gave his instructions to Joseph, to see that Amir was taken home and safely escorted inside. He then opened the cab once more and reached in to help Christine out.

"Pleasant dreams, my friend," he told Amir as he shut the door none too quietly behind him. He heard a murmuring of something from the prone Persian but was unable to quite make out what he said. With a shake of his head he turned and hurried up the steps to join Christine under cover, as the carriage headed off towards Amir's estate.

"Are you sure he will be all right?" Christine asked as she watched the coach disappear into the rain and gloom. "He did not seem quite himself tonight."

"Amir has a lot on his mind," he told her, knowing she deserved more of an explanation than that but was unable to give it to her. "I will be sure to check on him later tomorrow, but for now it is best we let him sleep it off." He then turned and snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him seductively. "Besides, I have a few things I wish to discuss with you in private…up in our room."

"Then what are we doing standing out here in the freezing rain?" she asked, eager to reinstate some of the emotions he had kindled within her on the dance floor…_and in the carriage_.

Erik was just about to sweep her up into his arms when the front door was yanked open, revealing a very flustered Mr. Bower standing there, silhouetted by the lamp light from inside.

"Thank heavens you are home, Master Erik!" he panted, as if he were out of breath from running. "You must come inside quickly, there has been an incident."

Instantly both Erik and Christine froze, both terrified by what the butler's cryptic words could possibly entail.

"What is it Bower?" Erik demanded, taking Christine by the hand and pulling her inside quickly. "What has happened?"

"It is Robert, sir," the man stated, his face ashen with fear. "He…he seems to have gone missing!"

.

.

**OH NO! Little Robert is missing? Wherever could he be? Well, while you all form search parties, I will sit here and file my nails and eat bon-bons until the next chapter...OK? (evil grin)  
**

**And what did you think of the new information you just got? Simon Radcliff...what is HIS story? And I do believe we know a little bit more about Amir and his sorrows now, don't we. And what did you think of the hotness on the dance floor and in the carriage...SHAME ON THEM - such a wanton display! ha ha. But don't worry, Amir put a stop to that, now didn't he? ha ha ha ha ha**

**.**

**NOW...as for WHY there was another early update: **

**One - because I wanted to announce that'Mystery Behind the Mask' is now available for download on Kindle. (soon for sale in book form as well) You can find it by going to Amazon and just typing in the title and then you can automatically download the whole story for your reading pleasure - but PLEASE...if you do, don't stop sending me your thoughts in the form of reviews! Just be sure to not reveal anything in them that the normal reader would not know yet...don't spoil the surprise for everyone else. **

**Amazingly enough, in the very short time it has been up and live on Amazon, I have already had over half a dozen sales! Were any of them YOU? I want to know! (squeals with delight)  
**

**Two - I also posted early because as a reward for your continued loyalty and wonderful reviews...I plan on moving my posting dates to THREE times a week - Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays - starting this Monday. So this way you don't have to wait so long in between chapter. I hope you enjoy the new schedule.**

**Now...please take a moment to drop me a line and tell me what you thought of THIS chapter!**


	26. Chapter 26

.

**First of all - THANK YOU to all those who downloaded my book on Kindle. I can't wait to hear from each of you and find out what you think. PM me, please!**

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**Guest** - Thanks, and I must credit the dancing scene to my beta PoE99, it was her idea that they dance at this party - and I had only planned on them sitting down to a fancy dinner. Well THIS was much better I think. Don't you?

**Melstrife** - glad you liked the dance scene too. The carriage scene was just plain fun, ha ha. Yes...where WAS Joseph? good question. Simon is not nice...but I think you kind of got that by the way Erik slammed in against the wall and tried to choke him...right? The Robert issue will be solved in this chapter. So read on! And looking forward to you getting your account.

**Guest** - Hmmm, never saw the movie "The Gift" but after reading the synopsis on Wikipedia - I am not sure how it related at all. ha ha. I do tend to somehow manage to use Disney references without even meaning to. First with Beauty and the Beast and now with Radcliff and Pocahontas. ha ha. Purely unintentional, I SWEAR. ha ha. Christine had no 'close' friends from the convent school - all the girls would come and go, while she stayed there for years and years. No one will be visiting her from school...well...kind of...but not...just wait, you will see. As for Raoul...I have something different planned for him as well. I can't tell you what...but I really hope that you laugh out loud when you get to that part. Trust me - you can't miss it. ha ha.

**Musicalis** - Thank you! And yes, everyone should pity poor Erik and Christine...foiled again! And that dance scene sure seems to be a hit! You can all thank PoE99 for THAT!

**PhantomChristine** - So good to hear from you once more! I hope you are here to stay and will be reviewing more often. I appreciate you saying you liked "Siren of the Sea" and "Tapestry of Deceit Part 2"! They were both so much fun to write! And I will keep writing if you promise to keep reviewing! ;)

**.**

**OK, now let's break out those semi-useful torches that "Not A Ghost3' suggested and see if we can find that missing boy in time for Erik and Christine to get in a little bit of alone time! But...let's not hold our breath, shall we? ha ha.**

**.**

.

**Chapter 26**

.

.

"What the hell do you mean missing?" Erik bellowed. "When was he last seen? Have you checked the house thoroughly? Where is Amy?"

Christine stood beside her frantic husband, feeling his fear through the grip he had on her hand. She could tell he was trying to remain calm but the news that the little boy was missing had unnerved him in a way she had never witnessed before.

Yet, before the stammering butler could reply to any of his master's rapid-fire questions, Madam Giry, Rose and Amy came rushing into the room. The old nanny was carrying the sobbing little girl and Christine could tell that Rose had been weeping as well. Antoinette seemed to be the only one holding it together.

"Rose, tell me what happened!" Erik barked. "How could he have run off, weren't you watching them?"

Christine understood that Erik was not truly accusing the old woman of negligence, for they both knew she loved the twins like they were her own. However his panic was causing his words to appear that way and she moved in closer and placed her hand on his shoulder, trying her best to calm him.

"I am so sorry, Master Erik," Rose lamented. "I put the children to bed like usual and then went to have my evening tea. When I heard the thunder begin I went to check on them, knowing the sound frightened them and found that Robert was no longer in his bed. I woke Amy but she did not know where he had gone. I swear I had no idea he had snuck out. Please forgive me, sir!" Pulling the little girl closer to her she began to sob uncontrollably.

"I am sorry, Rose," Erik said with a sigh of frustration. "I am not blaming you," he assured her, doing his best to sound calm. He reached out and took Amy from her arms so that she might be able to compose herself a bit. "This is my fault, for I was the one he was angry with, for breaking my promise about seeing his pony. I am the one to blame here, no one else."

Christine suddenly turned to Mr. Bower, an idea springing to her mind. "Did you search the stables, perhaps he ventured out to see Mr. Cricket."

But instead of the old butler answering her question, a voice from behind supplied the answer.

"No, my lady, Master Robert is not in the stables," Peter reported, entering through one of the side doors. His long overcoat was dripping wet, having apparently just come in from outside. "I just checked again, he is not there. I have been caring for the horses all evening, feeding and grooming them, I would have noticed if he had come out to see his pony."

Meg and Bridget both hurried into the room next, announcing that they had searched the library and the conservatory and the little boy was nowhere to be seen.

"He couldn't have simply vanished into thin air!" Erik growled, regretting his outburst when it seemed to upset the little girl in his arms even more. "Shhhhh, everything will be fine, Amy. Don't cry," he soothed, holding her close and running his hand up and down her back. He then turned to look at Mr. Bower and Antoinette. "We need to make a thorough search of the house, room by room, for he can't remain hidden from all of us. Inform the rest of the staff that no one leaves Summercrest for the night until he is found!"

"I will go round up the maids and the kitchen staff," Bridget announced, rushing off towards the kitchen.

"Now, Rose, take Amy back to her room and see about calming her down with some warm milk," Erik instructed, handing the still sniffling little girl back to the much calmer woman. "Antoinette, you and I will start in the attic and work our way down, floor by floor. Christine, you and Meg inspect the kitchen and the pantry, leaving no cupboard unchecked, he is small and can fit in the oddest places." He then turned to Peter and Mr. Bower. "Peter, you check the basement, making sure not to overlook a single nook or cranny, and Bower, you remain here and assign the staff different sections to search as well, until the whole house is covered. If anyone finds him, report back here and Bower can notify the rest who are still searching." He then turned to Christine, whose face had grown white with fear and brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it gently in reassurance. "We will find him," he promised and then he was gone.

Mr. Bower headed off to the store room to grab extra lanterns and candles while Peter turned towards the basement door, but a loud crack of thunder suddenly gave Christine an idea.

"Peter, wait!" she called, halting the young man in his tracks. "I would like to search the master suite first. Why don't you go with Meg and search the kitchen and the pantry and if he is not there, then you two can look in the basement next."

Peter looked a bit shocked but nodded his agreement, not wishing to argue with the mistress of the house. He gallantly gestured towards the kitchen, waiting for the blushing little Meg to go first, then following behind at a respectful distance.

Once she was alone, Christine pulled the hood up on her cloak and headed, not for the master suite, but instead towards the back patio doors. The thunder had reminded her of how frightened the little boy was of the noise and flashes of lightning. Now the feelings of panic in the pit of her stomach were far too reminiscent of the day they had played hide and seek. What if Robert had attempted to sneak out to see Mr. Cricket and the thunder had driven him into hiding _before_ reaching the stables. He had hid in one of the many buildings between the house and where his pony was kept before, perhaps one of them had served as a refuge for the freighted boy this time as well. Yet there was no guarantee of this and she did not wish to get anyone's hopes up or take away from the search party in the house. Yet, something in the pit of her stomach told her that she needed to look…just in case. Christine was determined to search through every one of the buildings outside, if that is what it took!

.

.

Erik and Madam Giry had just reached the attic stairs when he grabbed hold of her arm and spun her around.

"Antoinette, please tell me that no one came calling this evening while we were away," he all but begged, his eyes filled with fear.

"What? No…no one came calling," she assured him, perplexed at his question.

"Are you positive, no one at all?" he persisted. "Were all the doors locked? No one could have snuck in?"

"What is this about? Why are you asking such things?" The usually calm woman was now becoming frantic, not understanding what this had to do with the missing boy.

"He was at the party tonight…Simon Radcliff," he explained, watching as understanding washed over her face. "What if this is no coincidence…what if Robert didn't run away…what if _he _came for the children?"

"No!" Antoinette gasped, her hand covering her mouth in horror. "How could he know…how would he have found out?"

"I don't know!" Erik growled, raking his hands through his hair in utter frustration. "All I know is that the man appears out of nowhere after four years and this very night Robert goes missing? Is it so farfetched to believe that he could be behind this?"

"I only pray that you are wrong," she murmured, her hand beginning to shake with fear. "But we must not jump to conclusions. Robert is probably just hiding someplace in the house, still hurt and angry over not getting to see his pony. We must not go borrowing trouble until we know for sure it is warranted. Now, let us get to searching!"

Erik nodded his agreement and the two of them continued on towards the attic, determined to scour every inch of the place before they gave up.

.

.

The rain was still coming down in buckets as Christine made her way out the back and into the night. A chilling wind from the north had come up as well, and she pulled the cloak she wore tightly around her in hopes of keeping somewhat dry. Unfortunately, the dainty evening cape was not made for such weather and it quickly began to soak up every drop. Undeterred, Christine stepped off the patio and onto the muddy path that led to the stables. Her fine pair of shoes instantly became heavily caked with a thick layer of soil, ruining them for sure. Ignoring this she pressed on, heading for the first building she had searched the day Robert had hidden so well.

Each shack and store room turned up nothing and as time slipped away, Christine could feel her arms and legs begin to seize up due to the dampness and cold. Breathing into her hands, she rubbed them together, trying to restore the feeling in her frozen fingers as she pulled the door open on the carriage house. Joseph was still out, escorting Amir home, so the building was mostly empty but she was determined to give it a thorough look before moving on. She wished she had thought to bring a lantern or something, for the clouds were obscuring much of the helpful light of the moon.

"Robert!" she called out, waiting for a moment as her eyes did their best to adjust to the darkened room. "Robert, honey, if you are in here, please come out." She was about to begin her deeper search when over the chattering of her own teeth, she thought she heard a faint sound in the corner. Taking a step closer she called once more. "Robert…is that you? It is me, Christine, don't be afraid, just show yourself."

"C-c-c-christine?" a tiny little voice called from the shadows.

"Yes darling!" she cried with relief, tears of joy springing to her eyes. "I am here to take you back inside, please come out." Kneeling down on the floor she opened her arms, urging the little boy to make his way to her. She didn't have to wait long, for soon her arms were wrapping themselves around the body of a weeping child, his little head buried securely under her chin.

"I was so scared, Christine!" he sobbed, his little voice muffled against her chest. "I am sorry I was bad, I just wanted to see Mr. Cricket before I went to bed. But the thunder began and it scared me so much I ran in here to hide. I didn't mean to get lost, really I didn't."

"I know," she murmured, trying her best to soothe his fears. "Everything is all right now. I found you and I am going to take you back inside where we can dry off and get warm. You do not have to be afraid anymore."

"Is Papa going to be mad at me?" he asked, pulling back slightly to look up into her face.

Well perhaps the child _did_ have a reason to fear after all, Christine thought. She had never seen Erik so upset before and she knew he was beside himself with worry for the boy. She remembered how she had felt when she could not find him while playing their little game and she could only imagine his father's fears were twice as strong. Yet she also knew that her husband was a fair and kind man and he would not overly scold the child when he saw how scared the boy was.

"I won't lie to you, your father is worried sick about you," she warned him. "But he loves you and will be overjoyed to know that you are safe. Now we must be going before this storm gets any worse."

Christine stood up and removed her cloak, wrapping it around the boy in hopes that it might offer a small measure of protection from the onslaught they had to forge through in order to reach the house. Once he was bundled up, she scooped him up in her ice cold arms and ducking her head, she rushed back out into the rain. They had not gone far when one of her shoes betrayed her, the heel snapping off and down she went, feeling her ankle twist painfully as she fell. Somehow she had managed to turn so that she hit the ground on her side and not go down face first. Robert was spared any injury but tumbled out of her arms as he too landed in the soft mud beside her.

"Are you all right, Robert?" she asked, reaching out to make sure the little boy was unharmed.

"Yes…I am," he assured her, standing up as he pushed off the burdensome cloak. He stepped closer to her and took her hand in his. "Come on, Christine, get up!"

Christine began to comply but when she shifted her right leg to stand, she fell backwards into the mud. A sharp, shooting pain was felt in her ankle and she must have cried out without knowing it, for she heard the panic in Roberts's voice as he next spoke.

"What is it, Christine…are you hurt?" She could see his little lip was quivering as he looked at her with wide eyes.

"I think I twisted my ankle when I fell, Robert," she explained, doing her best not to let the hurt show on her face.

"Can you get up?" he asked, once more reaching out for her arm to assist her.

Attempting to stand a second time and failing just as miserably, Christine knew there was no way she would make it back to the house on her own power.

"I don't think I can, darling. I am going to need help," she told him. In the distance she could see the warm glow of the house from where she sat and she hoped the little boy would be brave enough to go the rest of the way alone. He had to be, since there was no way she could get there with only his help. "I am going to need you to go back to the house and get your father. He will have to come back and carry me in."

"A-a-alone?" Robert stammered, turning his head to look in the direction of the house. "I am scared, Christine."

"I know you are but I also know you are a big boy now, just like your father," she assured him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I know you can make it to the house to get help with no problems." When he still seemed to falter she pressed on. "Remember what Amir called you? He said you were Rostom, meaning tall and brave. I need you to be brave for me now, can you do that?"

Her pleading must have struck a chord in the boy and he seemed to stand a bit taller, looking at her with childlike determination.

"I...I will try, Christine," he assured her. "I will find Papa and he will know what to do."

"Yes, he will," she smiled as she turned him around so he was facing the house. Christine pointed her finger towards the light. "It is not far at all and you can see the lights there from the patio doors. Just walk straight towards it, don't look back and don't take your eyes off the light, all right?"

"I won't," he nodded, his little face set in determination.

"Good, now don't run or you might fall, just walk very carefully towards the light and I will watch you go all the way. There is nothing to be afraid of." She gave him a quick hug from behind and then urged him forward, watching as he set off at a steady pace.

"I will bring back Papa!" he called, never taking his eyes off the glowing light ahead of him. "I will bring back help, Christine."

She could feel her tears begin to fall once more, as she watched the rain-drenched boy bravely march through the darkness on his quest to find his father. Christine could not have felt more proud of him if he was her own flesh and blood. Soon his little form became obscured by the shadows, but as she continued to watch, she could make out his silhouette from time to time when he would cross between her and the house lights. She had complete faith in him, knowing that he would make it back and send Erik to rescue her.

Christine breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the reflection of the glass as the back patio door opened and shut. He had made it! But her joy was short lived as the sky lit up with another flash of lightning, followed by an ear splitting crack of thunder and the heavens rained down on her even harder. To add insult to injury, the chilling wind kicked up, nipping into her already frozen skin, leaving her praying that her rescue would come soon.

.

.

Erik and Antoinette had just finished their thorough search of the attic and were entering the first of the bed chambers on the third floor when they heard the cries of the little boy down stairs.

"Papa! Papa!" he called, as he rushed into the foyer in search of help.

"Robert?" Erik yelled, leaning over the railing in attempts to locate the direction of his call. When he saw the dripping wet boy come into view he wasted no time, flying down the stairs, multiple steps at a time, until he was able to scoop the weeping boy into his arms. Hugging him tightly, as if he would never let go, Erik did he best to calm both his and Robert's panic. "Where were you? Where did you go? And why are you all wet? Were you outside in the rain?" Erik asked in rapid succession, setting him down and kneeling as well, so that he could look the boy in the eye.

"I…I went out to s-s-see Mr. Cricket, b-b-but the thunder scared me and I hid in the c-c-carriage house," Robert replied, his teeth chattering from the cold. "Christine c-c-c-came and found me and we started b-b-back to the house but…but.."

"Christine? Where is she?" Erik's eyes quickly scanned the room, but there was no sign of his wife and this sent a whole new wave of panic through him.

"She fell d-d-d-down on the way back and she c-c-c-can't get up!" Robert burst out, a fresh set of tears staining his cheeks. "She sent me for h-h-help. You have to go get her, Papa!"

"She is still outside?" Erik was on his feet, eager to rush to her aid. Thankfully Antoinette had arrived at their side and having heard much of what was said, realized that her master needed to go.

"You go find Christine, I will take Robert to his room and see that Rose gets him dried off and warmed up," she instructed. "Then I will draw a warm bath in your chambers for Christine when you come back. Now go!"

Erik did not need any further encouragement and not even stopping to fetch his coat, he ran out the back door and into the night towards the carriage house in search of his wife.

.

.

Once she was sure Robert made it safely, Christine had taken her waterlogged cloak and draped it over her head, making a small tent with her arms in order to keep the rain from pelting her face. It was a small comfort, but still did nothing to stave off the cold that was quickly seeping into her bones from both above and beneath her. Her ankle was still useless but the freezing water she was sitting in had numbed it so that she could no longer feel the pain. She knew Robert had not been gone long, yet every minute felt like an eternity as she waited for her rescue. The thunder was still booming loudly and the occasional streak of lightning lit up the darkness. Huddled under her cloak, shivering from cold, Christine was unaware of Erik's approach.

"Christine!" he called, once the carriage house came into sight. "Christine, where are you?" He was afraid he might have run right past her in the dark, missing her entirely. His mask was soaked and water from it began to drip into his eyes or pool in places where the leather was pulled tightly against his skin. Still, he ignored it all and continued his search for his missing wife.

From where she sat, Christine heard his call and threw off her cape as she scanned the blackness, eager for his welcoming form.

"Erik? Erik, I am h-h-here!" she answered, her voice coming out in a chattering squeak.

He heard her call off to his left and as he turned a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating her there in the mud. Racing to her side he fell to his knees before her, cradling her face in his hands as he looked into her fear filled eyes. Erik felt a wave of relief wash over him as he touched her face and smoothed down her rain drenched hair.

"Are you hurt, can you stand?" he asked, his eyes roving over her form in search of injuries.

"My ankle. I can't m-m-m-move it without it hurting," she explained, gesturing towards her right leg that was laid out protectively before her.

"What were you thinking?" he chided. "You should never have gone out alone in search of Robert. Why didn't you come and find me or at least bring someone with you?"

"I was n-n-not sure he was truly out here," she explained. "I d-d-didn't want to take anyone away from the search if I was wrong." Her teeth were now chattering violently and Erik could feel the ice of her skin.

"It doesn't matter now, he is safe and we need to get you back in where it is warm," he told her, reaching down and gathering her into his strong arms. He cradled her close to him as he wasted no time heading for the house, a new form of worry creeping into him as he felt the way she was shivering so violently. She had not been outside long but the rain mixed with the chilly night air had managed to drain her body's heat and strength. He only hoped her ankle was not badly injured and that she would not suffer any lasting effects from her rescue mission.

"Thank you for c-c-c-coming for me," she whispered, burying her face and freezing hands against his chest, seeking out any bit of warmth she could from his body.

"I told you before, ma petite marguerite, that nothing will ever stop me from getting to you," he reminded, leaning forward and placing a kiss to her icy forehead. "Now rest easy, we are almost there."

.

Mr. Bower was waiting at the door with a blanket, having been notified by Antoinette as to what was going on. When he saw the master step out of the darkness and rush forward, the dutiful butler threw the doors open and held up the blanket as Erik draped it over the shivering body in his arms.

"Madam Giry is in your chambers running a hot bath for Lady Christine and I have notified the staff that the young master has been found," he informed Erik as he followed him towards the stairs.

"And Robert?" Christine asked, peeking her head out from the confines of the blanket and Erik's chest. "Is R-r-r-robert alright?"

"He is fine, my lady," Mr. Bower assured her, a smile of gratitude on his face for her bravery. "You just take it easy and do not worry about a thing."

"Tell the staff they may stay in the guest rooms if they do not wish to ford the rain getting home tonight. And see that all the doors are secure and locked tight, Bower," Erik instructed, speaking over his shoulder as he ascended the stairs, not breaking stride in his determination to see to his wife's comfort. "I do not want any more surprises transpiring at Summercrest."

"Yes, sir," Mr. Bower replied. "It shall be done."

They were soon at their chamber door and with a swift kick of his foot the door opened and he hurried her towards the bathing room, the sound of water being poured into the tub indicated that Antoinette was there and ready.

"Oh, Lady Christine!" the housekeeper cried as she caught sight of the shivering woman in Erik's arms. "You poor dear, we must get you out of those wet things immediately!"

"I will see to that, Antoinette," Erik told her, waving her off as she approached. "You go get her a change of clothes, the warmest nightgown she owns and a thick pair of stockings as well." If the woman found his instructions odd, she certainly did not show it and quickly hurried off to fulfill his request.

Erik carefully set Christine down on a bench near the steaming tub and knelt before her, reaching out to take hold of her right foot with care. She cringed as he gently began to bend it back and forth, checking for any broken bones. He gave a sigh of relief when he felt nothing out of place, simply stiff and a bit swollen.

"I do not think you broke anything, just twisted it fiercely as you went down." He removed the remaining shoe from her left foot and looked at it skeptically. "These shoes were not designed for traipsing around in the rain and mud. I am surprised you didn't fall and break your pretty little neck in them."

"I am afraid they are n-n-not any good for dancing now either," she told him, doing her best to lighten the mood with a little humor but her chattering teeth only made him frown further.

"Come, we must get you undressed and warmed up before you succumb to the chills," he told her, standing up and slipping around behind her. He made quick work of the lacings of her gown and soon she found herself sitting there with her dress pooling around her waist. Erik kindly covered her bare shoulders with a towel, her thin chemise the only thing still concealing her modesty. "Let me help you stand," he offered, coming back around as he took her by the forearms and helped her rise. The water logged dress slipped off of her and hit the floor with a splat as he reached out and lifted her out of it. Holding her steady, he worked at her corset and soon it too joined the useless dress on the floor. He quickly pulled the large towel around her entire body, keeping his eyes always trained directly on hers. He dared not tempt himself with any more of her luscious body than was absolutely necessary. He needed to keep his wits about him and see to her health and comfort first! Then they could think about revisiting the promises that were spoken earlier that evening.

Madam Giry returned just then with the garments Erik had requested and seeing that Christine was mostly prepared for her bath, she hurried to her side.

"I will see to her from here on out," she assured him, halting any protest he was about to give with a stern wag of her finger. "You need to look to your own health, Master Erik. You are drenched to the bone as well and the last thing we need around here is a sick man on our hands." Antoinette then all but shooed him out of the room. "You dry off and get changed, then I think it would be best if you see to young Robert. Make sure he knows that Christine is back safe and all is well. I fear he will not sleep a wink till you have tucked him in."

Erik was still reluctant to leave, his eyes searching Christine's for assurance. When he saw her smile and give him a tired nod, he at last relented, exiting the room in order to comply with Antoinette's orders.

As soon as the door was shut, Madam Giry eased the frigid girl out of the remainder of her clothes and assisted her into the bath. The warm water caused her frozen flesh to become covered in pins and needles as it began to reawaken the nerves made dormant by the cold. Her ankle began to throb as well, and it took several minutes before Christine was able to wipe the grimace off her face and begin to relax.

.

It did not take long for Erik to change his clothes and don a fresh, dry mask before he headed off to the east wing to see to Robert's condition. This night had been a wild ride of emotions for him and he could feel his body giving way to exhaustion as he walked. He could not even express his relief in learning that Robert had only run off to see his pony and that Simon Radcliff had not been involved in the boy's disappearance. He had fought for four long years to keep the children's existence a secret from that evil man and he would be damned before he would see them fall into his clutches now. He had sworn an oath to protect them, even at the cost of his own reputation and he would die before he let them come to harm.

Entering the children's room, he found Amy sound asleep, most likely from pure exhaustion over the evening's excitement. While little Robert was still wide awake, weeping softly into the loving arms of Rose as she did her best to comfort him. When the boy heard Erik enter, he looked up and reached his tiny arms out for him.

"Papa! I am so sorry!" he cried. Rose stood up as Erik walked over, allowing him to take her place beside him. "Is Christine alright? Did you find her?"

"Yes, Christine is just fine," he told the teary eyed child, wrapping his strong arms around him as he rubbed his back soothingly. "She is upstairs taking a bath right now."

"Are…are you going to punish me for being bad?" he asked, looking up at his father fretfully.

"You were very naughty to have run off like you did, Robert, and I have no choice but to punish you for what you did," Erik began, wanting the boy to know that disappearing like that was very wrong. "You had everyone in the house worried sick and many of the servants had to stay late tonight in order to search for you. So to make up for it, tomorrow you are going to tell each one of the staff how very sorry you are for what you did." He watched as the little boy nodded solemnly and lowered his head in shame. "But…I feel that I am somewhat responsible for what took place tonight as well. You see, I should _not_ have broken my promise to you about going to see Mr. Cricket when the rain stopped. That was wrong of me and I am sorry for what I did. However, promise or no promise, you must never take off like that again. You could have been seriously hurt and I would have been very sad if Christine had not found you as quickly as she did. You owe her a big thank you for what she did to find you."

"I am sorry, Papa!" he cried once more, burying his face in Erik's chest. "I didn't mean to make you sad or for Christine to get hurt."

"I know you didn't. No one is upset with you anymore," Erik leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "I still love you very much, and Christine does as well."

"And I love her too. Me and Amy both do," Robert told him, wiping the tears away from his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "We are glad that you married her, she is very nice."

"Yes, she _is_ very nice," Erik agreed, easing him back down in the bed as he pulled the covers up around his chin. "But now you need to get some sleep. You have a lot of apologies to deliver tomorrow and if you do a good job of it and really mean every word, then maybe, just maybe, we can go visit Mr. Cricket."

"Even if it is raining?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, even if it is still raining," Erik then leaned in once more and placed a kiss on the boy's forehead and gave him a wink. It did his heart good to see Robert's face relax, the worry and concern giving way to sleep as he closed his tired eyes.

"I will stay close and check on them throughout the night," Rose assured him as they left the room. "You should return to your room and see to Lady Christine. She is a brave girl to have ventured out into the storm like she did."

"Yes, very brave…and selfless," he nodded, his gaze turning towards the door as he thought of her waiting upstairs for him.

"All the servants agree that you chose wisely when you made the match with her," Rose continued.

While her words were meant as a compliment, they had the opposite effect and instead, Erik felt a sting of regret, knowing the truth about their marriage. He had not chosen her any more than she had chosen him. They had been thrust together, quite against their wills…and yet, through it all, it would seem they had found common ground. Erik knew that even if his father had not arranged the marriage, if Erik had met her some other way, he would have pursued her with a passion that he still could not explain. He was like a moth to her flame, the steel to her magnet; it was more than evident that he could not resist her gentle pull on his heart. And in the end, they had indeed selected one another, choosing to honor the vows they had spoken of their own free will. Electing to make theirs a true marriage based on honor, respect - and if Erik had any say in it –love!

Thanking Rose for her kind words, he quickly excused himself and headed back up to his chambers in search of his amazing wife.

On his way he stopped just long enough to pick up some medical supplies to tend to her ankle, he was relatively sure it was not broken but it should still be wrapped. When he entered the room he saw Madam Giry assisting Christine towards the bed, now dried off and dressed in a long nightgown, looking more like her normal, beautiful self.

"Wait, you will injure yourself further," he argued, laying down his items and quickly coming to her side. Scooping her up he proceeded to carry her to the bed as Antoinette ran ahead and pulled the covers back. Laying her down he took note of her flushed cheeks and placing a hand on her forehead he could feel that her skin had gone from ice cold to extremely warm to the touch. "She is burning up," he gasped, looking up at his housekeeper with concern. "She needs a physician immediately!"

"It is just a mild temperature, quite expected after getting so chilled in the rain and cold," Madam Giry explained in a placating tone. "I am sure it is nothing serious but if it will ease your concerns, we will send for the doctor first thing in the morning. Right now, she simply needs some rest."

"Are you certain?" Erik asked, willing to ride through hell if Christine required medical attention.

"Quite," she assured him. "I will go see if Rose is in need of anything and make sure Mr. Bower has things well in hand. I suggest you two get some rest, it has been a very harrowing evening and sleep is what you both need more than anything right now."

"Thank you for all your help, Antoinette," Christine replied, already feeling her eyes drooping closed.

"It is my pleasure, my lady," the older woman smiled. "We are all very proud of what you did for little Robert. Now you rest and get well, I am sure both children will be anxious to see you first thing in the morning." With a reassuring pat on Erik's shoulder the older woman left the two of them alone.

Erik grabbed one of the throws off the end of the bed and laid it over her, unable to pull the bed covers up until he had wrapped her damaged ankle.

"Let me tend to this first and then I agree with Antoinette, you should rest," he explained as he knelt by the bed and began to gently rub some liniment into her darkening skin, before wrapping it securely in a roll of clean cloth.

"Erik, I am so sorry I ruined our evening this way," Christine apologized, her eyes tearing up slightly as he pulled the blankets up around her, tucking her in to keep her warm.

"Hush now," he scolded, lifting her up a bit as he slipped in behind her, letting her upper half lay across his chest as he rested against the headboard. "I do not care about anything but seeing you well. You saved the day by finding Robert and I am very proud of you." He reached out with his hand to pull some of her slightly damp hair out of her eyes, frowning as he felt the heat from her skin beneath his fingertips.

"You're sure Robert is all right? He didn't get ill from the rain, did he?" she persisted, his soothing touch causing her to drift closer to sleep.

"No, he is feeling just fine," he assured her. "So will you come morning."

"I had a lovely time at the Kingsford's party tonight," she murmured, her eyes now closed but a smile spread across her lips at the memory. "You really do dance divinely."

"Only with the right partner," he chuckled, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "And I assure you, Christine, that you are the only woman I will ever want in my arms."

"I'm glad," Christine sighed, as she snuggled down into his warm embrace and allowed sleep to overtake her.

.

.

**Yippeee, Robert is home and safe. Too bad the effort it took to find him left Christine unable to participate in any other activities that night, ha ha. **

**And who was the sweetest husband? Saving her from the rain, being all adorable with Robert and helping her out of her wet clothes? Yep, he made some points in this chapter. Too bad he will lose them all in the next one...yes, my friends, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, for starting on Wednesday all the secrets will begin to be revealed. So hang on to your hats!**


	27. Chapter 27

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**Musicalis** - you will see if she is sick or not in his chapter. And look...Wednesday is HERE!

**PhantomChristine**: Well that was kind of the idea...to MAKE you worry about that. But no, it was just a case of a little boy wanting to see his pony. As for what will happen next...just read on and find out. ha ha.

.

**Chapter 27**

.

.

As Christine slowly opened her eyes, she could feel a pair of hands softly kneading the flesh of her open palm, while a deep and sultry voice quietly spoke to her.

"Welcome back, my little daisy," Erik whispered, watching as her eyes focused on his masked face. "You had me worried."

"I did?" she asked, noting that her voice sounded raw and hoarse. "And what do you mean, welcome back…where did I go?" Confusion creased her features at his words and she could see that this amused him just a bit.

"You have been asleep all day," he chuckled, gesturing to the window, where she could see a mixture of deep colors across the sky, indicating a lovely sunset was just beyond her view. "It is already evening, you missed breakfast and lunch. The doctor came and went, assessing the condition of your ankle as well as your alarming amount of sleep. I am happy to report that he diagnosed it as only a sprain, which should heal quickly. Your apparent need for copious amounts of rest stems from something he called 'near-hypothermia'. Resulting from being exposed to the cold rain and allowing your body temperature to drop at an alarming rate. Your fever and exhaustion were a direct result."

"Will I recover?" she asked, her eyes growing wide with worry over his use of confusing medical terms and dreadful sounding symptoms.

"In no time at all," he assured her, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it multiple times.

"Oh, you mustn't do that," she gasped, pulling her hand from his grasp, causing him to sit up straight in shock, a look of hurt coming to his eyes. "I might be contagious and I don't wish for you to get sick as well."

Her explanation seemed to put him at ease and his smile returned, as did her hand in his, for he would not be dissuaded from holding it once more.

"Your ailment stems from outside stimulus, not from a virus," he explained. "Your body is simply doing its best to recover from a shock. You are not ill…only exhausted."

"I…I do feel very tired," she confessed, enjoying his ministrations on her hand once more - now that she knew there was no danger. "Yet, you say I slept all day?"

"Just like the princess in the fairy tale," he agreed, this time reaching out his hand to smooth down her hair and brush his fingers down her cheek and jaw. "I contemplated waking you with a kiss but the doctor urged us to let you sleep. In fact he prescribed complete bed rest for the next few days at least…no exceptions."

"Next few days?!" Christine moaned, rolling over slightly as she stared at the ceiling. _Oh this was intolerable_! "But I had plans…_we_ had plans," she mumbled under he breath.

A low chuckle from Erik drew her attention back to him and she realized from the wolfish grin on his face that he had overheard her.

"While I too feel just as forlorn about the delay of such…_plans_, I am much more concerned with getting you well and back to health." He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead and smiled down at her. "I am a patient man, Christine. I promised that I would wait until you were ready, I am quite capable of waiting until you are healthy as well."

They were quiet for a while, neither one speaking as they continued to stare into each other's eyes, his fingers weaving their way in and out of her hair or touching her face seductively. Finally, clearing her throat, Christine forced herself to speak, breaking the silence.

"How are the children?" she asked, needing something to distract her from his overwhelming presence.

"They are fine," he assured her, pulling away and sitting back in the chair next to the bed with a knowing smile. "I let them come in this morning to see you for a few minutes while you slept. But I am afraid that since you were less than entertaining, they didn't stay long," he chuckled.

"I can imagine," Christine laughed as well, quickly regretting it as the exertion sapped away much of her energy. When she looked back at him she could see a bit of weariness in his posture as well, and that concerned her. "You have not spent all your time in here watching me sleep, have you?"

"No, not _all_ my time," he confessed, although she got the impression he was not being completely truthful with her. "I spent some time taking Robert out to see Mr. Cricket. I also had to make sure that his punishments for running off were carried out."

"Punishments?" Christine tried to sit up, quite shocked to hear him say such a horrible thing. She felt the poor boy had suffered enough and thus needed no further chastisement. "What kind of punishment?"

"Calm down, my little daisy," he told her, leaning in to gently push her back against the mattress. "I simply had him give a formal apology to all the staff that took part in the search last night, as well as assigned him the duty of cleaning out Mr. Cricket's stall…for a week."

"Oh," Christine nodded, finding Erik's form of restitution very wise and fair. "How did he take his sentencing?"

"For him, the apology was a bitter pill to swallow. It would appear he inherited the Morant pride but he still managed to get the words out with grace and sincerity. As for the cleaning assignment, I don't think there was a happier boy alive when I handed him the rake. I believe he saw it more as a guarantee that he will be seeing his pony on a daily basis than an actual punishment. I thought it was a fitting form of penance, especially after the trouble his little stunt had caused to the stable hand, Peter."

"What do you mean?" Christine asked, not understanding how Robert's disappearance would have affected the young man, other than to have caused him undo worry and stress.

"When Peter and Meg were searching the pantry last night, the door somehow locked itself behind them and the two were trapped in there all night," Erik explained. "When Antoinette woke to find Meg unaccounted for, we had to send out a second search party and discovered the pair, huddled together for warmth, on a pile of barley sacks. Needless to say, they were quite embarrassed by the whole incident."

"Oh poor Meg," Christine groaned. "And I was the one who sent the two of them off to search. I am sure she is simply mortified to think that everyone found them in such an intimate position."

"Well, if truth be told…" Erik began, getting a wicked gleam in his eye. "From what I observed, neither one seemed terribly upset about it. And I believe I might have spied Meg giving Peter a few shy glances as they parted ways."

"Oh, really?" This news intrigued Christine, for she had great affection for both her lady's maid and the kindhearted stable hand. In her mind, they would make a very nice couple…should they truly have interest in one another.

"What is going on in that devious little mind of yours, my little daisy?" Erik smirked, able to read the secretive grin that now crossed her lips. "Could you now be contemplating a career as a match maker?"

"We shall just have to see what comes of it, I suppose," she mused, picking at the edge of the blanket, unable to meet Erik's inquisitive eyes.

"Well, while you ponder the affairs of the heart, I shall go down and inform the cook that you are awake," he told her, rising to his feet. "She made you a nice hearty broth, per the doctor's instructions, and has been keeping it warm on the stove all day, in anticipation of you wanting some."

"Oh, that sounds lovely," she agreed, suddenly realizing just how hungry she was.

"Then you rest and I will be right back." With a final touch to her hand, he left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

.

.

After having her soup – which she had to beg to eat on her own, Erik believing at first that it was necessary he feed her – they talked more of what had taken place while she had slept. When she asked if Amir had come by, Erik felt a bit guilty that he had not gone to visit him like he had planned, yet other things had taken precedent since then, altering his schedule. He had spoken to Joseph that afternoon and the man had reported that he had seen the Persian home safely, but that was the extent of his knowledge on the subject. He hoped that his friend had not re-inebriated himself and Erik made a mental note to check on him tomorrow if he had not heard from him by then.

It didn't take long before Christine's eyes were once more drooping and she was having a hard time remaining awake. Erik told her to rest and that after he saw that the children were put to bed, he would return and take his rightful place beside her, holding her through the night. This promise eased her mind and she indeed felt him slip in beside her a few hours later, his warm breath tickling her ear, as he whispered goodnight and pulled her snuggly against him. Lulled by the sound of his breathing and the feel of his heartbeat, Christine was soon lost in a peaceful sleep once more.

.

.

The next day proceeded much the same, with Christine confined to her bed while Erik waited on her hand and foot. He was never far away, offering his services in every capacity imaginable, from nursemaid, to waiter and even carried her to and from the door to the washroom when nature gave its urgent call. He left her side but a few times all day and only when he felt she needed rest more than company. Erik used this time to spend with the children, wishing to oversee Robert's duties as stable hand and making sure the boy was not slacking off on his job of cleaning Mr. Cricket's stall. Erik watched with pride as the child's enthusiasm at having his own pony extended to his responsibility towards its care as well. He knew he would soon have to begin those riding lessons he had promised, for the boy was obviously eager to learn.

It was while they were out with the horses, the rain having temporarily abated, that they heard the familiar greeting of Amir from the stable doors.

"Uncle Amir!" both children cried, as they ran towards him, ready to throw their arms around his legs in greeting.

"Hold on there," he warned, causing them to halt a few feet away, their faces filled with confusion. When he pulled a small basket out from behind his back, holding it out before him gingerly, their expressions changed to those of excitement. "I think this gift would appreciate being treated gently and with soft voices," he instructed, kneeling down in front of them.

"What is it?" Robert whispered, being as quiet as he could.

"Well, I think Amy should open it up and find out," Amir laughed, urging the little girl to step forward.

Squatting down, so that she was just about eye level with the basket, Amy lifted the lid with eager anticipation.

"A kitty!" she cried, her little hands reaching out to touch the small grey and white striped bundle of fur. "You got me a kitty! Oh thank you, Uncle Amir…thank you!"

"You are very much welcome, my dear. I figured it was high time someone did so," Amir smirked, giving Erik a challenging look. "My elderly housemaid, Mable, mentioned that she had a litter at her home that was just now old enough to leave their mother and eat on their own. I picked out the cutest and most playful one, just for you." He then reached in the basket and picked up the kitten and handed it to the eager child. "He is going to need a lot of love and looking after. Can you handle the job?"

"Oh yes!" Amy assured him, cradling it to her chest as she stroked his soft fur.

"And I will help!" Robert assured his uncle. "Since I am sharing Mr. Cricket with Amy too."

"Yes, that was very nice of you." Amir nodded, as Amy turned so that her brother could pet the kitten as well.

"Well, you did it again, old friend," Erik grumbled, crossing his arms as he stared at the self-assured Persian.

"Did what?" he asked, not sure what Erik meant by that.

"That is the second time you have swooped in and given one of my girls the gift of a pet," he stated. "If I did not know any better I would think you were trying to steal away their affections."

"Who needs to steal, when they offer it so willingly?" Amir laughed, earning himself another withering look from Erik.

"Can I take the kitty in the house and get him some milk?" Amy asked, looking up at the two men, oblivious of the playful sparring taking place between them.

"In a moment," Erik instructed. "I need a few moments to speak with your uncle in private."

"I could take them, sir," Peter offered, stepping out from the stall where he had just been laying down fresh straw. "I think that Master Robert has done a fine job here and I would not mind escorting them both to the kitchen to find the little fur-ball a drink."

Erik held back a knowing grin at the young man's generous offer, understanding all too well just where his motivations lay. Being a stable hand, Peter had very few excuses to go anywhere near the main house, the very place where Meg spent most of _her_ time. It was obvious that the lad was looking for any reason to see the pretty little lass he had been sequestered with the other night. He made a mental note to inform Christine of this further development.

"Thank you, Peter," Erik told him. "I would appreciate it very much if you would. And while you are there, will you please find Meg and ask her to check in on Lady Christine to see if she is feeling better." He was sure the message was not needed but when he saw the look of delight spring to Peter's face over the assignment, he knew it would be worth it.

As soon as the three of them were gone, Erik took hold of Amir's arm and quickly pulled him out of the stables and off towards the house at a rather quick pace.

"What is this all about, Erik?" Amir questioned, doing his best to keep up with his friend's large strides. "If you are truly upset about the kitten, I apologize. I just thought it would be nice for…"

"This has nothing to do with the kitten," he assured him, stopping when he felt that they were far enough away from anyplace or anyone who might overhear their conversation. "I needed to tell you about what took place here the other night."

Amir crossed his arms over his chest as a sly grin sprung to his lips.

"Oh I can just imagine what went on here the other night," he insinuated. "From the way you and Christine were carrying on in the carriage, I think I know exactly…"

"Amir!" Erik stopped him, shocked at his friends teasing. "Don't be vulgar!"

"You brought it up!" he quickly defended himself, taking a cautionary step back.

"I was not talking about that! And not that it is any of your business, but nothing even remotely close to what you were suggesting happened between Christine and I the other night," he informed him, the disappointment showing in his voice.

"What? Why the hell not?" Amir questioned, his curiosity overriding his good manners. "After what I saw on the dance floor and heard you two saying in the carriage, I purposefully stayed away an extra day just to give you your privacy." He stared at Erik, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You didn't stick your idiotic foot in your mouth and say the wrong thing again, did you?"

"No, I did no such thing!" Erik assured him, a bit affronted by the suggestion. "When we arrived home that evening, Robert was missing."

"Missing?" Amir's eyes instantly turned to where the young boy had gone, mentally assuring himself that Robert was indeed just fine. "I don't understand."

"Neither did I," Erik continued. "And I am not ashamed to tell you that I let my mind imagine all kinds of horrible scenarios to explain his disappearance. The most prominent being, that Simon had learned of the children's existence and had come to claim him."

"No!" Amir gasped, stepping forward and gripping Erik by the shoulders. "That was not the case though, was it?"

"Thankfully no, the boy had just wandered out into the night in an attempt to see his new pony and took refuge in the carriage-house when the thunder frightened him." Erik assured him. "Yet we cannot discount the prospect of such a thing actually happening now that we know Radcliff is back in the area. I still feel it is no coincidence that he showed up at the party and dared to confront me like he did. Until I know the truth, I intend to keep an extra close eye on both the children _and_ Christine."

"Yes, Christine," Amir nodded, stepping back from Erik as he recalled the veiled threats Simon had made towards her the other night. "You asked your stable boy to have Meg check in on her…is she all right?"

"Christine was the one who found Robert when he was missing," Erik explained. "She guessed he might have hidden from the storm and discovered his hiding spot. On the way back to the house, she slipped in the rain and turned her ankle, causing her to have to sit out in the cold until Robert could come fetch me. She suffered a serious bout of the chills and the doctor has assigned her strict bed rest for the next few days."

"The poor girl," Amir lamented, his heart going out to not only her, but his friend as well. "I am sure that put quite a damper on your evening."

"Indeed," Erik agreed, his tone betraying his frustration over the delay. "Yet, that is not as important as her health and the children's safety. I intend on sticking close to home and keeping an eye on things here. However, I need you to do some digging around in town and see what you can learn about Simon's whereabouts and movements. We need to know exactly what that devil has up his sleeve."

"Agreed," Amir nodded. He then stepped forward and again rested his hand on his friends shoulder. "I am sorry I was not able to assist you in the search the other night or to help ease your concerns over the possible reason for Robert's disappearance. Yet I am glad that Christine was here for you – and you for her as well. Together you make a fine team and I do not think there is anything the two of you cannot handle if you approach it with the love that is so evident in your eyes, my friend."

"I find, that for once, I am forced to agree with you," Erik smiled, reaching out to grip Amir's forearm in a manly gesture of camaraderie.

"I would stay and visit longer but I am sure you have plenty to do in taking care of your wife. And now with a new kitten in the house…you will have your hands full." Amir laughed as he watched Erik roll his eyes in exasperation. "I will stop in the village on the way home and make some discreet inquiries about Simon and see if anyone knows what he might be up to. I will report back in the next few days if I learn anything. In the meantime, give Christine my best and tell her I hope she is better soon. And you…you take care of your family."

"You can be damned sure I will," Erik promised, walking his friend back to where his horse was tied. "You be careful as well. Radcliff is not a man to be underestimated and is far more devious than his vile son ever was."

"I understand," Amir assured him as he mounted his horse and with a nod he was gone.

Erik stood there for a while and watched until he rode out of sight. He was glad he had Amir as his ally, for while he might be foolhardy and reckless at times, Erik knew he could always count on the Persian when the chips were down. He had proven that four years ago and Erik was sure that nothing had changed.

.

.

By the time Erik made it back to the house and upstairs to check on Christine, he found that she was not only wide awake but accepting visitors as well. Both Robert and Amy were cuddled up beside her as she held the newest addition to the Summercrest household on her lap, the kitten purring loudly as she stroked it.

"Well, I see you have met Amir's little gift," Erik deduced, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the bedpost as he stared at the three of them.

"We found a name for him too!" Amy announced.

"Yes," Robert broke in, eager to get in on the news. "Christine was telling us that he looked a lot like the raccoon that snuck into her school one night and destroyed all the test papers and ate the apple off the teacher's desk."

"So we named him Bandit!" Amy finished, unwilling to let her brother steal her thunder. "Since Christine said raccoons are like little thieves."

"Well, while I approve of his moniker, I certainly hope he does not take after his namesake," Erik laughed, enjoying the way the three of them giggled at his remark. There was just something about having his little family safe and in one place, looking so content and happy, that made his heart melt.

"It was very thoughtful of Amir to find this little fella and bring him all the way over," she announced, smiling up at him. "I take it that he did not choose to stay for dinner?"

"No, he had other things that needed tending to," Erik said with a shake of his head. "Though he did wish for me to convey his sympathies for your illness and wishes you a speedy recovery. However…" Erik began, pushing off from where he was leaning and walking over to the bed. "You will not get any rest with these two, I mean three, keeping you awake." He then signaled for the twins to vacate the bed. "Why don't you take Bandit down to Rose and see if she can make him a nice little bed in your room."

The children were reluctant to leave Christine's side, but the stern look from their father left them little room for argument. So taking the kitten with them, the two waved goodbye and left the room.

"They were not bothering me," Christine assured him once they were gone. "In fact I enjoyed the distraction. Lying around with nothing to do can become extremely dull."

"The doctor said that you needed plenty of sleep in order to get well, and with those two around, sleeping is the last thing you would be doing." Erik assured her. He then came over and pulled the covers up around her, tucking her in once more as he kissed her lips ever so gently. "Now close your eyes, my dear, and I will read to you until you fall asleep."

"Oh yes, that would be lovely," she smiled, always enjoying the sound of his voice, and willing to do anything he asked to gain such a treat.

And so, as Erik read her fanciful tales of magic lamps and flying carpets, Christine drifted off to sleep with a contented smile on her face.

.

.

The next time Christine woke it was dark outside. She had apparently fallen asleep to the sound of Erik's voice, just as he had planned. She stretched her stiff limbs, smiling to herself as she thought of how attentive Erik had been over the last few days. He truly was a very dutiful husband. Her stomach gave a bit of a growl, indicating to her that it must be close to dinner time, and she wondered what delicious repast her thoughtful mate might soon bring up for her to eat. The whole idea made her laugh just a bit, thinking that if she was not careful, she could easily become spoiled.

Glancing over at the washroom door she wondered if she could make it there and back on her own, or if she should even try, given that Erik had instructed that she have assistance. But no one was there at the moment to ask and her hunger was not the only need her body was announcing. So cautiously, she pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed, steadying herself with the bedpost as she stood there for a moment, deciding if she should take a step. It was amazing how weak her body had become, simply from one night out in the rain and cold but her turned ankle worried her as well. Still, her need to get to the washroom fueled her determination to try walking on it. So step by step, Christine limped carefully to the door, smiling proudly as she turned the handle and went inside.

Once her business was done, she was heading back to the bed, when she heard the familiar sound of someone crying somewhere in the house. She was not sure why the noise seemed to pierce her very heart but it was something she just could not ignore. So bypassing the bed, she instead made her way slowly to the door, opening it cautiously and heading to the east wing, certain of the voice's origin. She did not know where Erik was, or if he had spoken to Madam Giry about all this as he had promised, but Christine could not let the poor woman suffer alone. She had to help!

She had just made it to the hallway that led to the mysterious door when she heard voices coming up the stairs behind her. It was Erik, to be sure, but who was he talking to? Quickly, so as not to be seen, Christine slipped into one of the nearby closets, pulling the door shut only part way so that she could easily peek out of the small crack. Sure enough, Erik rounded the corner and came into view, but what shocked her was that Antoinette was with him! Both of them had worried expressions on their faces and Christine could now make out what it was they were saying.

"I thought she was doing better this past week," Erik insisted, as he walked hurriedly by where Christine was hiding. "Even Amir thought so, the last time he was up to see her."

"You can never predict what will set her off, but you can't deny that the girl has every right to express her sorrow," Antoinette told him.

"I just pray that Christine continues to believe that it is _you_ she heard and does not investigate further," Erik said with a heavy sigh.

From where she hid, Christine could feel the hurt and betrayal wash over her like the waves of the sea. They had _both_ lied to her! It was not Antoinette at all who was crying in that room…it was someone else…some girl! Tears of anger welled up in her eyes as she watched Erik draw a key from his jacket pocket and insert it in the lock, opening the door as they both quickly entered. The almost deafening click that followed, indicating that she was once more locked out of the secret room, made her want to scream with rage.

_How could he_? How could he have looked her in the eye and let her go on and on about how concerned she was over Antoinette's apparent sadness and not say a word? What was he hiding from her, or more specifically, _who_ was he hiding from her?

Almost as if she were in a daze, Christine emerged from her hiding place and headed back to their bedroom. She no longer cared if anyone saw her, or if they knew she was up and about without Erik's God-given permission. If he was unwilling to be truthful with her, why on earth should she be concerned about his wishes? When she made it back to her room at last, she crawled into bed and curled up into a ball as she let her tears fall freely.

She had been ready to offer herself to him, to become a true wife and all the while he had been lying to her. Christine had thought when she learned about the children it had been the end of all her doubts, but no…he was still keeping secrets. How was she supposed to trust a man with her heart when she couldn't trust his word? He had acted so kind, done everything right and yet it had all been a facade, one designed to get what he wanted while continuously deceiving her. Christine felt used, betrayed, and so very hurt.

She must have laid there for a long time, crying as if her heart would break, until she heard the sound of the door opening and Erik's voice as he entered.

"Christine, are you awake?" he asked softly into the darkness.

Hurriedly she brushed away her tears, not wanting him to know that she had caught on to his plan of deception. Turning so that her face was away from him she pretended to be asleep. She heard him walk over and set a tray down beside the bed and she could smell the enticing aroma of her dinner wafting forth. While her stomach yearned for the food, her heart refused to let her turn around and accept it.

"Christine," he spoke again, this time touching her shoulder lightly in an attempt to wake her. "I brought your dinner."

"I…I am not hungry," she lied, still unwilling to look at him. "I just want to sleep."

"All right," he answered, a measure of concern in his voice. "I will let you rest, if you truly feel that is what you need."

"It is. I am very tired," she assured him.

"I will leave your dinner here, in case you change your mind," he told her, reaching out and smoothing back her hair in a tender fashion.

Oh how the gesture pained her. While her traitorous body craved his touch, his caresses and warm kisses, her mind screamed out that his was the hand of a liar. She remained quiet, praying that he would think she had gone back to sleep and just leave her in peace.

"I will go see to the children and then be back up to check if you need anything more before bed," he whispered, not sure if she heard him or not. "Sleep well, my little daisy." And then she heard him leave the room, just as quietly as he had come.

The moment he was gone Christine buried her face in her pillow, beating her fists against the mattress in frustration. How could she attach herself to a man who did not trust her, who kept things hidden from her and refused to share his past? What was she going to do?

She must have cried herself to sleep, for the next thing she knew the bed dipped a bit as she felt Erik sliding in next to her. She braced herself for his touch, coming to expect that he would wish to hold her as he slept. Sure enough, his arm did indeed snake out and encircle her around the middle, gently pulling her towards him until she could feel his warm body against her back. Her tears began anew, but she did her utmost to remain still and silent, not letting on that while his embrace was gentle, it was pure torture to her soul.

It was then and there that Christine decided that she could not live like this. She had to know exactly what it was Erik was keeping from her. She refused to let one more day pass without learning his secrets, no matter how horrible or devastating they might be. For nothing could possibly be as bad as the things her troubled mind had conjured…_could it_?

.

.

**COULD IT? Oh I think it could! Or who knows, maybe he is hiding a parrot up there, one who likes to scream a lot? Maybe it was a gift from some pirate he met that he seemed to have a lot in common with? (ha ha - points to anyone who got that joke)**

**Or he IS really hiding something horrible and Christine will learn the truth about it very soon...VERY soon.**

**So tell me what you thought! More on Friday!  
**


	28. Chapter 28

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**Musicalis:** Yep Erik has been a naughty, naughty boy and now he has to take his medicine! And I will always tell you when I will update...unless I stick in a bonus chapter - those are kind of spontaneous.

**Roseilea:** Still wondering where you went. I am just about to the point where I can post your review and then everyone can see how smart you are!

.

**OK...are you ready to find out what lies behind the secret door in the east wing? If not...stop here and don't read any further...I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU!**

**.**

**Chapter 28**

.

.

The rays of the sun had just begun to peek over the hills when Christine's eyes flew open. It was morning! Remaining very still she could hear Erik breathing deeply behind her, telling her that he was still fast asleep. She had lain awake for hours last night, planning her next move, deciding just how she was going to find the answers she sought. Unfortunately she had come up with nothing.

Yet as her eyes fell upon Erik's jacket hanging over the back of the settee, a flash of inspiration hit. That was the jacket that held the key to the room she so desperately wanted to investigate. If she could somehow make it out of bed without disturbing him and sneak it out of the pocket, she might stand a chance of finding out what he was hiding.

Turning carefully she saw that he was laying on his back, one arm flung up over his head and the other resting on his chest. She felt a stab of longing, recalling the morning she had woke with her head resting there…_but no_, he was a liar and she would not let herself entertain such thoughts. Moving with all the stealth she could muster, while favoring her still sore ankle, Christine crept out of bed and inched towards the jacket that lay only a few feet away. Once she reached it she turned and checked to see that Erik was indeed still asleep, before she began to feel around, at last locating the elusive key. Fisting her stolen treasure in her hand she quickly made her way back to the bed. She had just sat down, hardly jostling the mattress at all, when Erik woke with a start.

Christine froze, not sure what to do or say as he looked around, blinking the sleep from his eyes, until his gaze came to rest on her, sitting there with her clenched hands upon the blankets.

"Where do you think you might be going?" he asked, rolling over to face her as he propped himself up on one elbow.

He did not sound suspicious or upset, in fact he almost sounded amused. Oh if only he knew the truth and what she clutched in her now sweating palm.

"I…I had to use the washroom," she told him, thinking quickly. It really wasn't a lie, for in truth she did need to visit the facilities.

"And do you think you should be attempting to get there on your own, my little daisy?" he questioned her further, a playful smile gracing his lips.

Oh how he was torturing her, both with his charming smile and the use of her favored nickname. It hurt her heart to know that behind such kindness and appeal was a man unwilling to share the truth about himself and his past with her. Not only that, but one who was purposefully lying to her about things in order to keep her in the dark. Well she was done being his _innocent little daisy_! And if he wished to play this strange game of truth or dare, well she would find the truth and she just dared him to stop her.

"I did not wish to wake you," she replied, forcing a pleasant smile. "But as long as you are up…I am not quite sure I could make it on my own." She knew it was a lie but better he believe that she was still incapable of getting up without assistance, at least for a bit longer. It would play very nicely into her plans for the day if he thought she was still bedridden.

Erik quickly jumped out of bed and came around to her side, ready to do her bidding in all matters.

"Then allow me to assist you, my darling wife," he asserted, scooping her up in his arms as if she weighed next to nothing. He then carried her to the washroom door where he set her down and opened it up, holding on to her hand as he waited for her to hobble in. "I will be right here when you are finished, ready to carry you back to bed or wherever you wish to go."

He sounded so eager to please, willing to do anything to make her happy, yet she knew he would refuse her the one thing she wanted. The truth. No, she would find out his secrets on her own, she was done waiting for him to deem her worthy of his trust.

"Actually, I would like to take a bath," she informed him, the false smile still pasted on her face. "Could you be so kind as to call Meg up to assist me with that?"

"Certainly," he nodded. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. It would appear your strength is returning and I must say that your color has quite improved."

Christine could only imagine that the color in her cheeks was attributed to anger and a sense of betrayal, but if he wished to see it otherwise, who was she to argue. She nodded sweetly and turned to shut the door when he stopped her, leaning in to kiss her lips gently.

"I will send Meg up right away but I did not wish to part from you without a good morning kiss," he explained, his eyes bright with excitement, completely oblivious to how unresponsive she was. With one final smile, he allowed her to close the door and she was alone at last.

Opening her palm she stared at the key she had managed to conceal, a wave of determination washing over her as she vowed that she would find a use for it that very day!

.

.

Unfortunately any opportunity to do so failed to present itself most of the morning. After her bath, breakfast was brought up to her and since she had skipped dinner, her stomach insisted that she partake fully of this meal. Next she was bombarded by the children, coming in to visit with her and tell her all the exciting news about Bandit. According to Amy, he was the best pet in the world, though Robert argued the fact, stating instead that Mr. Cricket was. This led to a heated debate between the twins about who had the better pet, forcing Christine to step in and settle the argument. She reminded them that they had agreed to equally share ownership of both Bandit and Mr. Cricket, so each pet was the best under that scenario. This seemed to placate them, or at least put an end to the dispute and the children left her room, friends once more.

Next Erik insisted on sharing lunch with her, since he had missed the opportunity to do so at breakfast because of her lengthy bath. She did her best to appear interested in what he said, nodding along as he entertained her with stories of the children, the servants and Amir's brief visit the previous day. At first Christine wished that the friendly Persian would stop by, just so that she might have a buffer of sorts between her and Erik. But then she recalled her husband's words, indicating that Amir was fully aware of the identity of the mysterious person in the locked room. And the more she thought about it, the more alone she felt. Madam Giry knew the truth, to be certain, but did Meg or Rose…or any of the other servants? Was she the only one kept in the dark, being fed lies and half-truths to keep her satisfied and compliant? She simply did not know who to trust any more.

Her apparent lack of enthusiasm led Erik to believe that she was tired and soon after suggested that she get some rest. He had told her he would take the children outside to see the horses and then be working with Angel for a while before dinner. This news greatly appealed to her, finally seeing her chance to sneak off to investigate the room in the east wing. So snuggling down into the bed, she did her best to act as if she were going to take a nap. Erik stayed sitting there beside her for what seemed like an eternity but eventually he rose, placed a kiss on her cheek and left the room.

The moment she heard the door click shut, her eyes flew open, eager to implement her plan before Erik realized that his key was missing and came searching for it. She hoped she could put it back without him knowing she had absconded with it but there was no way she was giving it up before she got a chance to use it. She waited restlessly in the bed for a reasonable amount of time before guessing the coast was clear. Rising slowly, she took a tentative step, testing the condition of her ankle and finding that it gave her only a small measure of discomfort, she donned her dressing gown and slippers before approaching the door. Placing her ear to the wood she listened to see if she could hear anyone milling around in the hall, not wanting any eyewitnesses to her covert actions.

When no sound was heard, she crept out and headed for the east wing. Her heart was in her throat and every creek of the floor, every voice that echoed through the house made her jump and look behind her for fear she was being spied on or would be caught. Yet miraculously she made it to the secret door without encountering anyone. Taking out her purloined key, she slid it in the lock and turned it, giving a heavy sigh of relief when the mechanism gave way and the door opened at her bidding.

_Success!_

Quickly, before defeat was snatched from the jaws of victory, Christine stepped inside and shut the door behind her, turning the lock so that no one would be the wiser. However, what she found was a bit perplexing, for instead of a room, she was met with a set of steps, leading upwards to yet another door. She silently prayed that another key, one she did not possess, was not needed to enter this barrier as well. Christine began climbing silently, her ankle only slightly bothering her at this point, as she approached the top, her heart now in her throat.

Grasping the handle she quietly opened the door, peeking around to see if there was any danger in entering. The room was quiet and from what she could tell it was simply a large bedroom with a cozy sitting area by the fireplace, quite similar to their own room in fact. Stepping inside she shut the door behind her, looking around in hopes of seeing anything that might reveal to her who Erik was hiding from her. She did not have to wait long, for out of the corner of her eye a bit of movement alerted her to the fact that she was not alone.

A woman, probably a bit older than Christine, with long black hair and dark eyes, was sitting in front of the fireplace reading a book. She set it down on a nearby table as she rose to her feet, facing her intruder with a look of both wonder and concern. She was wearing a plain blue dress, nothing overly fancy but of the highest quality fabric. She appeared quite content at the moment, no bouts of tears or melancholy sobs like Christine has anticipated. Yet the question still remained…_who was she?_

"Hello," Christine began, doing her best to sound friendly and not suspicious like she truly was. "My name is Christine."

"Christine?" the girl repeated, her voice very pleasant, as was the smile that slowly spread across her face. "I like that name very much. I am happy to meet you, Christine. My name is Emily. You live here, don't you," the girl asked.

"Yes…yes I do," Christine nodded.

"I have seen you walking in the gardens from my window," Emily told her, taking a step or two closer as she pointed towards the large pane of glass she had spoken of. "I wish I could go outside and walk through the grass and trees, but Erik won't allow it. He says it is far too cold out there for me, that I would become ill."

"You are forbidden to go outside?" Christine gasped. Was this poor girl a prisoner here? They did keep the door locked, after all, but she had only assumed it was to keep others out, not to keep someone in. What kind of monster was Erik to do this?

"Yes. I was also told that you were far too busy to come and visit me, even though I begged and begged them to ask if you would," her face seemed to brighten at this. "Yet here you are, so perhaps they were wrong about it being too cold as well. Maybe I could go outside after all."

"Have you been here long…in the room I mean," she asked, coming closer as she began to fear this mysterious girl less.

"I…I don't know," Emily muttered, getting a far off look in her eyes. "Sometimes it feels like forever and other times it feels like only days. But I can't leave, you see, because if I did, who would take care of the babies?"

"The babies?" Christine questioned, not sure she liked the sound of that. "What babies?"

"Mine of course," Emily laughed, as if it should be common knowledge. "I have two, a boy and a girl…would you like to see them?"

Now Christine was becoming very disturbed by the direction of this conversation. Was Emily referring to Robert and Amy? Or were there yet _more_ children hidden away in Summercrest that she did not know of?

"Why yes…I would love to see your…babies," she stammered, not at all sure she spoke the truth.

Emily walked over to where a large sheer curtain hung, draped over what looked to be a standing cradle by the window. With a loving smile on her face she pulled back the curtain to reveal what appeared to be two…_dolls_. They were clothed in long white infant's dressing gowns with little bonnets on the sculptured heads. And while they looked quite adorable, laying there side by side in the fancy cradle, they were obviously not real. It suddenly dawned on Christine that Emily was not quite right in the head and her heart went out to the poor girl.

"They are such good babies, they never cry and are a great comfort to me since I cannot go outside. Even Antoinette says they are the best babies she has ever helped take care of." Emily boasted, obviously very proud of them.

"I am sure they are," Christine agreed, now fully convinced that this woman was indeed the twin's mother. Emily even shared many of the same features as Amy and Robert, from hair color to their identical button noses. A fearful pain gripped her heart and she felt like she wanted to die from the sheer agony of it all. Erik had not only lied to her but he was keeping another woman - _the mother of his children_ - here with him in the house. Did he continue to make conjugal visits on Emily, while at the same time sharing a bed with her? The very idea made her sick to her stomach and she almost turned and fled the room in disgust. Yet she forced herself to stay, if only to learn more about this poor girl whom Erik apparently kept locked away in hiding.

"At first I was not sure I could take care of them," Emily continued speaking, not noticing the emotional turmoil Christine was going through. "But soon they stopped crying all the time and I really enjoy them now." She reached down and began to rock the cradle gently, cooing and making comforting noises to the two little dolls. "Would you like to hold one?" she asked, looking up at Christine.

"No…I…I do not wish to disturb them," Christine declined. "Perhaps later, when they wake up."

This seemed to appease Emily and she went back to staring lovingly at the two little dolls.

"I am very glad you came to see me, I really do not get many visitors," she carefully pulled the curtain around the cradle and turned her full attention back to Christine. "It can get rather lonely here all by myself. Antoinette is very good to me and she sees that I have plenty of books to read, as well as paints and needle work supplies to keep me occupied. But a friend to talk to would be most enjoyable. Please say you will be my friend, Christine."

The girl looked so hopeful, so lost and alone that Christine didn't have the heart to say no. Even though her entire being was screaming that she should hate this girl, despise her as the enemy and the rival for Erik's affections. But no, it was not_ Emily's_ fault that Erik was a liar and a cheat and no matter what, Christine could not bring herself to blame her for his sins. Just like the children he had fathered out of wedlock, Emily was a hapless victim in all this…just as it would appear Christine was as well. She wondered if she stayed here at Summercrest much longer, with her mind and heart at war with each other over Erik's games of affections and lies, would she too become touched in the head and have to be locked away like his first mistress?

"So…Emily," Christine began, clearing her throat as she tried to speak over the lump of betrayal that had formed there. "Can you tell me a little bit about how you and your babies' father met?"

"Their father?" Emily asked, her smile quickly fading from her face.

"Yes, your children's father, I would like to hear more about him," she repeated, unable to actually say Erik's name in connection with this beautiful woman and the children he sired by her. It simply hurt too much.

"No…" Emily muttered, turning around and walking away, her hands going to her head as she shook it back and forth. "No…I…I don't want to talk about him." Her face was now a mixture of fear and confusion and she had backed herself into a corner, suddenly sinking to the floor and pulling her knees up to her chest. She had placed her hands over her ears, rocking back and forth as she kept repeating the word _no_, over and over.

"Emily, I am sorry," Christine told her, cautiously coming to her side as she tried her best to comfort the distraught girl. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, no!" she cried out, suddenly becoming very frightened as she pulled away from Christine's hand. "Don't touch me! I will be good, I promise to be good! I will do whatever you say, just please do not hurt me!"

"No one is going to hurt you," Christine assured her, becoming frightened not only of the girl's frantic nature, but that someone would hear her screams and come and investigate. Obviously this girl was deathly afraid of something - or someone - and Christine did not know how to calm her down.

"Get away from me, don't touch me!" Emily screamed even louder, curling up into a little ball on the floor as she covered her head with her hands and began to sob so pitifully that tears of compassion sprang to Christine's eyes. She wanted so desperately to help the girl, but she simply did not know how. She was about to launch into another round of reassuring words when she heard the door downstairs rattle, as someone pulled on the handle, trying to force it open.

_She had been discovered!_

_._

"Antoinette!" Erik hollered down the hall, hoping his tone would speed the woman up. He had come back inside to change into his riding clothes when he heard Emily begin another one of her tirades. Yet when he reached her door, he could not find his key! After searching every pocket he began to pull on the handle, hoping it would give way and allow him entrance. Erik hated to hear her cry like she was, obviously terrified by something and waiting for Antoinette was killing him. "Move faster woman!" he bellowed, as he saw his housemaid scurrying towards him, her key already in hand.

"What is wrong with _your_ key?" she asked, none too politely as she turned the lock and pulled open the door.

"I must have dropped it someplace, now stop asking stupid questions and move aside," he bellowed, taking the steps two at a time as he rushed into the room. He found Emily huddled in the corner, frightened and crying, just like he had so many times in the past. It tore at his heart to see her this way and he quickly crossed the floor and was on his knees in front of her, scooping her up in his arms as he rocked her like a baby.

"Shhhh, everything is all right, Emily. I am here now and I won't let anyone hurt you," he promised.

"Erik?" she sniffled, lifting her head to see if it really was him.

"Yes precious, I am here," he assured her, lifting her up as he walked to her bed and laid her down among the soft pillows. "It is just me and Antoinette and no one will ever hurt you again."

"Are…are the babies all right?" she asked, her eyes growing wide as she tugged at his arm for answers.

"Yes, they are just fine. Your children are sound asleep and dreaming of sugarplum fairies," he told her with a sad smile. This seemed to ease her mind and Emily laid back and looked up at him.

"Why are you wearing that absurd mask again, Erik?" she asked, sounding confused by the sight of it. "Are you playing some kind of game?"

"Yes, Emily, it is a game," he told her, his tone sounding anything but playful. "And if I take the mask off too soon, I will lose, so I must keep it on for a bit longer."

"Very well, but it seems rather ridiculous," she told him. "You look like a bandit or a highway man."

"I am sorry, precious," he apologized. "I hope I do not frighten you with it."

"No…no, it is all right, you keep playing your game," she sighed, her eyes getting a faraway look in them. "I…I think I would like to go to sleep now. Can I have some of that special tea Antoinette makes for me, it helps me rest."

"Yes, of course," he nodded, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it gently. "You just rest and I will go ask her." Erik then stood up and walked over to where Antoinette waited, one hand on her heart while the other one covered her lips, her eyes misted over in sorrow.

"Erik…her crying is beginning to rouse suspicion, not only with Christine, but the rest of the staff as well," Antoinette informed him, looking up at him with sad eyes. "It might be wise to consider moving her to an unused part of the house and hire a full time nurse or perhaps sending her away to be cared for."

"I will never send Emily away!" Erik hissed, his displeasure over her suggestion quite evident. "This is her home and it always will be. Besides, this room is the furthest away from where my father insists on staying when he comes for his accursed visits. You know as well as I do what hell would break loose if he learned of her existence here!"

"I know," she agreed, lowering her head in resignation. "You are right, this is still the best place for her."

"I just don't know what to do for her anymore," Erik told her, his voice cracking from the emotion he was trying so hard to hold in. "We have tried everything we know of but she still will not snap out of it."

"She needs to be seen by a doctor, someone specializing in cases such as this," Antoinette stated firmly.

"You know damned well why that is not possible!" Erik growled. "Don't you think if I could I would have the best physicians in the country here assessing her case? Do you think for one moment that I would not do everything in my power to bring her back to me?"

"I do not doubt your love for her, Master Erik," Antoinette assured him, placing a sympathetic hand on his arm. "And I know Mr. Dessan has done all he could for her as well. But I'm afraid that all the good intentions in the world might not be enough to heal her mind. It simply may have been too much for her to take and she…she might be lost to us."

"No! You're wrong!" Erik yelled, his voice causing Emily to whimper in fear as she rolled over on the bed and put her hands over her ears. This upset Erik even more and he moaned in pain as he realized his anger had upset her further. "Please just go get Emily some tea, while I sit with her and try to calm her down," he sighed. Had his terrible temper not been the very thing that had gotten them into this mess in the first place?

"Very well," Antoinette agreed, her pity for both of them quite evident in her eyes. "I will be right back."

.

From her hiding place in the small alcove by the door, Christine heard Madam Giry leave, but her mind was churning with all the information she had just learned. Erik had all but admitted that he still had feelings for Emily! Antoinette had even confirmed it by her own words. Christine could not hold back the tears, her heart was torn in two and she no longer knew up from down. How could this happen? How could he do this to her? Emily was obviously the reason Erik's father had gone in search for a proper bride for his son, hoping to replace the mentally ill woman that Erik had not only given his heart to but fathered children with. Had he insisted that Erik get rid of the poor girl and that is why he kept her sequestered away, never allowed to leave the room for fear his father find out she was still staying at Summercrest? And yet even that did not excuse the fact that he had lied to her, saying all those pretty little words to make her fall in love with him, while all the time keeping his mistress on the premises.

Her hands balled into fists as she realized that too had been a lie when he told her he did not have a lover. Rose may not have been the one she needed to fear, but Emily certainly was. And all the things he had done, gentle touches, the chocolates, the nickname he used that had meant so very much to her…all of it was like a knife to her heart. It was meaningless, completely futile now with the knowledge of Emily's existence.

Wiping her tears from her eyes, she peeked around the corner, seeing that Erik had his back to her, as he sat there talking quietly to his _lover_. They had yet to discover her there, but unless she made her escape now before Madam Giry came back, it would only be a matter of time before they did. So without a sound she eased her way to the door and slipped out as quietly as she could. She had just exited the second door when she heard the sound of a tray and tea service coming up the steps, signaling Antoinette's return. Making use of the nearby closet once more, she managed to hide herself until the housekeeper entered the door, locking it behind her as she went.

At first Christine wanted to just sink to the floor in the dark little room and cry till she had no tears left. Her whole life was in shambles and she felt trapped with nowhere to go. She could not imagine staying here at Summercrest knowing what she did now, that her own husband loved another. And not just anyone, but a beautiful dark haired goddess who had given him not one, but two angelic children. How on earth could she compete with that? The only reason he probably even looked her way now was because Emily was suffering from some traumatic episode, leaving her mentally unstable. Yet what if she did snap out of it as Erik obviously hoped? Would he then shove her aside, preferring to return his full attentions to the mother of his children? What would she do then? Would his father and her uncle see her as a failure…would she then be sent off to Madam Bordeaux's as they had threatened? No! She couldn't let that happen. She had to think…she had to plan…and she had to find a way to leave Summercrest before it came to that!

With her new found resolve she exited the closet, hurrying as quickly as her now throbbing ankle would allow, back to her room. Placing the key on the floor, just barely sticking out from under the settee where Erik had laid his coat last night, she hoped he would think it had fallen out and it had gone unnoticed. Then stripping off the house robe and slippers and climbing into bed, Christine did her best to calm her frantic heart so as not to cause suspicion should Erik come to check up on her.

She quickly put on the act of a sleeping wife, still recovering from her ailment, when she heard the soft click of the door opening. Just as she assumed, Erik had come to make sure she had not heard the cries of his hidden lover. Through hooded eyes she watched him inspect the settee, checking the cushions and sticking his hand down the seams in search of the missing key. When he spotted the silver object peeking out from beneath it, he gave an audible sigh of relief, picking it up and gripping it tightly before placing it back in his pocket. He then walked over to where she lay, her eyes now shut tight as she tried to keep her breathing even, praying he would not believe her sleep was anything but authentic. Apparently her deception was complete, for with a light touch of her hair, he left the room without suspecting a thing.

.

Christine stayed in bed for the rest of the day, feigning sleep every time Erik checked on her. Once more she was forced to endure his presence at dinnertime, but thankfully the children joined them, offering a bit of a buffer. It pained her deeply to think that she would be forced to leave them as well, never to look upon their cherubic little faces again once she had fled Summercrest. But it could not be helped, she would leave and take nothing but her few meager belongings with her. Unfortunately, she would leave her heart when she left, for even if he had lied and deceived her…she knew deep down that love had begun to grow there for him, and she feared it would never truly die.

For the next several hours she contemplated how she would survive the torture of Erik's arms around her while she slept, and just before he came in to retire for the night, she struck upon a plan. She waited for him to undress in the washroom and then come over to his side of the bed, feeling the mattress dip down and him scoot over towards her. When she felt his hand begin to slip around her waist, she spoke.

"Please don't," she instructed her voice stern and commanding. It was enough to halt him in his place, and she could feel the confusion and hurt radiating off of him behind her.

"What is wrong, Christine?" he asked, his voice taking on a tone that tore at her heart. "Have I offended you in some way?"

"My…my time of the month has arrived," she managed to get out, the embarrassment in her voice not completely faked as she felt her cheeks burn at saying such things to him. Yet it had the desired affect and he slowly pulled his hand back and moved a few inches away from her.

"I…I am sorry, my dear," he muttered, obviously not quite sure how to handle the situation. "Is there anything I can do? Are you in pain? Do you need me to get you something?"

"I would simply prefer that you do not touch me while I am in this condition. It is…_uncomfortable_ for me right now," she explained, still not turning to look at him and glad that he did not insist that she do so.

"I understand," he told her, moving back over to his own side of the bed with an almost fearful look.

Christine had always heard that feminine issues frightened and disgusted most men, and the less they understood about such things the happier they were. She knew her cycle was truly scheduled to start within the next several days, and she was rarely late. But by telling him it had already begun, she hoped she would buy herself enough time, without him offering her his affectionate touches, to plan her escape from this farce of a marriage. She knew she was going against all she had been taught that a wife should be, loving, understanding and forgiving – but she simply could not forgive this!

A wife was bound to her husband as long as the marriage bed was not defiled and having a mistress would certainly count as a defilement in her book. She had been willing to overlook illegitimate children, but a mistress was an affront to all she held dear and right.

"I will respect your wishes then," Erik continued, laying his head back against his pillow and staring up at the ceiling. "But, please let me know if there is anything I can do, my dear."

_You could stop lying to me_! Her heart screamed. _You could not have a mistress and love me as much as I had begun to love you_! But there in the dark, with his warm and loving embrace feeling miles away, Christine knew that those things would never happen…and she cried bitterly for their loss.

.

.

**Well now you know who is in the room doing all the crying. But that still leaves the question - WHO IS SHE and WHY does she cry? Hope you are ready for the answers, because it won't be long now till you find out!  
**

**So what did you think of Christine's sneaky little plan to get into that room? **

**What do you think of Emily?**

**And how about Christine's excuse about why Erik shuold not touch her? NOW who is the little liar?  
**


	29. Chapter 29

**.**

**Look! Bonus chapter! Why? Well you have cheeky little Roseilea to thank for this one. She made me laugh! **

**But there will be a change in my posting schedule this coming week - see my notes at the end for the new times.**

.

Guest Reviews:

**Guest: ** Maybe I am thinking of a totally different movie called "The Gift" Still not seeing any resemblance, ha ha. I enjoyed your musings over your theories on the mysteries! Yes, Amir's drinking is suspicious hu? What is HIS issue? I agree...it IS good that Christine is getting to use her emotions! But I am not sure Erik will enjoy HOW she uses them on him, ha ha.

**Guest:** (could be the same as the guest above, but without a way to identify each one, I don't know) Christine is MAD and she has every right to be! And yes, she can't just head out the front door...she needs to be smart about her departure! Wow, your guess about Cedric and Max is spot on. While I do have something funny planned for 'Raoul'...he will not be bashed (much, hee hee). I like Raoul, so he is safe with me.

**PhantomChristine:** you just hold on to those random ideas...all will be made perfectly clear very soon!

**Musicalis:** Emily IS sweet...when she is not screaming and crying that is. Yes, Erik might use that against her...but come on, he totally lied MORE than she did! She deserves to know the truth!

**Roseilea:** Oh yes, we LOVE angsty/angry/possessive Erik! I should make a few calls and see if we can get HIM to make an appearance, ha ha. And as for that weekend bonus chapter... 'ask and ye shall receive' ha ha.

**Guest:** I really like drama and angst...but I do not like things to drag on too long. Mysteries are fun, but when there is anger issues or misunderstandings...I am with you, lets get them resolved before the damage a marriage! Right?

.

**So let's go see what Christine has planned now for her great escape!**

**.**

Chapter 29

.

.

The next two days were a literal hell for Christine. She was trapped in a constant state between wanting to scream in anger or cry buckets of tears. Early that first morning after her discovery of Erik's mistress, she formulated a plan to escape Summercrest and the torturous existence she now found herself in. After thinking long and hard, she decided her only friend, and option, was Clair Kingsford. She realized she had not known the woman long but she hoped that if she were to petition her for asylum, explaining the circumstances of her objectionable marriage, the woman would take pity on her and render her aid. Perhaps Clair could help her get back to the abbey where the sisters might be willing to hide her for a time. For even if Erik did not come looking for her, Christine was certain her enraged uncle would. Yet there were many rooms in the abbey where men were simply not allowed and if she remained there until things died down, she was guaranteed a measure of safety. What would become of her after that, she did not know. Yet one thing was certain, she had to leave…and soon! She would simply have to take it one step at a time.

Unfortunately, it was those first _steps_ that concerned her the most. Since Christine did not know how to ride a horse and there was no way she could hitch up the carriage by herself, her only option was to walk the many miles to the Kingsford Estate. Her ankle was slowly improving but even she knew it would be impossible for her to make it such a distance before it was completely healed. Even then, she would need to sneak out late at night and practically run the entire way in hopes of not being discovered and caught the next morning on the road.

She would need a small amount of provisions, easily pilfered from the kitchen but she couldn't see taking many things with her, for they would just slow her down. Her treasure box for sure would come along and even though she had given Erik her beloved father's cravat pin, she found she could not leave it behind. She would somehow have to sneak it away from him before she left, unwilling to leave the memento in the hands of a liar…no matter how much she still cared for him.

She would also take a dress or two, seeing as they were given to her but she refused to take anything else, especially the emerald necklace. While it too had been a gift, it was far too personal and only brought tears of regret to her eyes when she saw it now. She had been so blissfully happy the evening he had presented it to her. Christine recalled her emotions running high in anticipation of giving her heart - and her body - to the man she had married. But all that had changed in the blink of an eye and now she was left with a shattered heart and an empty life.

And never did the blade of grief cut so close to her heart than when she spent time with Robert and Amy, often having to excuse herself from their presence so they would not see her tears. She would miss them terribly; she knew this to be true, for she had come to love them so dearly in such a short time.

Yet if she thought it was difficult to spend time with them, it was twice as hard to be around Erik. For though she would mourn over the loss of the children, she knew the one she would miss the most was Erik. Despite his lies and infidelity, she had come to have such deep feelings for him, she was afraid they could never be dug out of her heart. That love had easily taken root there, like a sturdy oak and was completely unwilling to yield to her aching plea to vacate.

Thankfully her fabricated excuse of her monthly cycle had offered a measure of protection against Erik's displays of affections - his touches and kisses. But he still insisted on spending practically every waking moment with her, wishing to assist her or offering to do anything she bid. This made the days even more agonizing, since his persistent kindness was wearing her down bit by bit and she feared if she remained too long, she might succumb to his wicked charms.

However the days were nothing compared to the nights, for lying there alone in the dark, knowing that he was only a few inches away was pure misery. She would stay awake just to hear his breathing, yet all the while wondering if it was her he was thinking of…or Emily. She only prayed that her ankle would be strong enough to carry her to the Kingsford's soon, for she was not sure how much longer her heart could stand this.

.

.

Erik was at a loss. He had heard horror stories from other husbands over the years of how different their wives would become during that delicate time of the month but he had never dreamed they were true! Yet literally, overnight, his affectionate, dulcet little flower had become a prickly thorn bush, never allowing him to come anywhere near her. She would shy away from him, flinch if he so much as touched her hand and whenever possible she would leave the room if he entered. He wracked his brain to think of what he might have done to offend her and yet he could come up with nothing. He had been attentive, mild, accommodating and more pleasant than he recalled being in years… and yet it never seemed to be enough. He missed holding her at night, pulling her close to him as he buried his face in her silken hair, lulled to sleep by the gentle beat of her precious heart. He missed_ her_!

Two days in, he found himself wondering just how long this torment would continue. Would she become her normal self again once this affliction passed? And even if she did, would he be subjected to this again the next time it came around? Perhaps this was why most men kept their wives continuously pregnant? He made a mental note to revisit this idea once he had more information.

That information came right after breakfast, one that if it had not been for the talkative nature of the twins, would have been eaten in complete silence. For no matter how hard he tried, he could not get Christine to even look at him, let alone speak. Oh she spoke to the children, laughed at things _they_ said, but not once did she attempt to engage _him_ in conversation. So when Robert and Amy raced off to get their coats for the outing Christine had suggested, he took the opportunity to try and speak with her.

"Christine," he began, reaching out as he lightly took her hand, halting her from her hasty exit. "Please tell me what I have done," he all but begged. He was a prideful man, but even he had his limits and was not above a bit of groveling when the need arose. And if there was ever a need, it was now! "It is obvious you are upset, if you will only tell me what is bothering you, I will do everything I can to make it right. You have to trust me, my little daisy."

Christine had been doing her utmost to hold it together, to remain calm and not let her emotions show. But when Erik spoke of trust and wanting _her_ to tell him things, when he himself was unwilling to reciprocate, she could stand it no longer.

Pulling her hand out of his, she rounded on him like an angry tiger.

"Trust you?" she spat, causing him to pull back at her ire. "I have shown you nothing but trust since the day I was brought here! Never once have I insisted you reveal to me what it is you hide behind your mask. When I learned about your children, I trusted that you hid them from me for a good reason. Trust is all I have shown you, and yet you will not spare me a moment's peace, even when all I ask is to simply be left alone and given some time for myself?"

Her fiery temper shocked him, once more throwing him into confusion as he tried to decide if he should be angered by her outburst…or excited by it. His little wife was sure full of surprises.

"Christine, I will give you all the time you need," he promised, taking a step forward, for the heat that he felt between them seemed to draw him closer to her. "I only wish to speak with you, spend time with you, and perhaps hold you once more at night. I miss you." He reached out, his fingers aching to touch the delicate skin of her face, but she stepped back, turning her head so that his hand only found air.

"I…I think we should consider sleeping in separate rooms," she suddenly insisted, unsure if she could successfully fend him off should he attempt to reinstate their former positions in bed. In truth, she was beginning to wonder if she didn't want him to do just that…and that frightened her.

"You…what?" he asked, unwilling, or unable to comprehend her suggestion. If Erik had been confused about how he felt before, he was quite sure now. Anger blazed in his eyes and he reached out and took her by the arms, pulling her to him none too gently. "Christine, I have been as patient and understanding as I can, and as a gentleman, I would never dream of imposing myself upon you during this time. I have been, and will remain, your chaste and respectful husband in all matters of intimacy… but I will_ not_ forsake our marriage bed. You are my wife and you will remain in our room and share my bed until the day that death parts us! Is that clear?!"

This was simply too much for Christine to take. His anger, contrasted by his promise of chastity for her sake, coupled with his close proximity, was sending her emotions into a whirlwind. She had no words, no retort, and absolutely no defense, so she did the only thing she could – she burst into tears and ran from the room. Throwing open the first door she came to, Christine ran inside, slamming it shut behind her as she collapsed into the closest chair, and once more cried till her eyes were red and swollen.

.

Back out in the entryway, Erik stood there in shock. He had meant to comfort her, to find out what was bothering her but instead he had only made things worse. Of course he didn't want her to sleep in another room! She was his wife and there was no way they could ever grow closer together if they kept separate sleeping quarters. But his foul temper had caused his words to come out all wrong, instead of being reassuring, he grabbed her and shouted in her face. Not at all the actions of a sane and loving husband…but instead those of a monster.

"And what may I ask was _that_ all about?" Antoinette's accusing voice asked from behind him, obviously having seen much of what just transpired.

"I…I only meant to ask her what it was I had done to make her so upset," he began, still completely baffled by the whole situation.

"From where I stood, it appeared that you were doing far more than asking her a simple question," she disputed. "If that was all you had done, she would not be sobbing in the library and you would not be standing here like a dog with his tail between his legs."

Erik turned and looked the elderly woman in the face, opening and closing his mouth several times as he worked up the nerve to voice his humiliating question. But in the end, a need to understand his wife won out over his embarrassment.

"Antoinette…" he began, stopping to clear his throat several times. "Do girls…I mean, are all women…this volatile when they have…their cycle?" There, he had said it, and from the change in expression on his housekeeper's face, he could tell she had gone from angry to sympathetic.

"So _that_ is the problem," she muttered, shaking her head sadly. She had noticed the tension between them over the last two days and had wondered what had caused the sudden change.

"I have been trying to be understanding and gentle with her, but I am at a loss." He raked his hand through his hair, just wishing he could make sense of it all. "What does she want from me? What can I do?"

Antoinette stepped forward and reaching up she placed her hands on his shoulders in a kindly fashion.

"A woman's emotions are often out of control at this time," she explained, doing her best to be informative without going into any details that Erik would likely not appreciate. "The most you can do is be patient with her. Do not allow your temper to rise no matter what she might say or do. Yet I fear the worst of it is not over."

"It has only been two days, and she just informed me she no longer wishes to share a bed with me," Erik lamented. "How much worse could it possibly get?"

"No matter how bad it becomes, how you choose to deal with it speaks of your character, as well as your feelings for her," Antoinette told him sternly. Then her face softened and once more a smile touched her lips. "The simple fact that you wish to help, and not just ignore her during all this, shows me that you _do_ love her. And I could not be more proud of you if you were my own son. Show endurance, and in just a few days, she will be back to her normal, congenial self, and all this will be forgotten."

"I pray that you are right," he said with a sigh. "I do not enjoy feeling helpless in this matter."

"Men never do," she nodded. "My poor Gerome swore that at those times I magically turned into my own mother, whom he feared quite extensively."

This story made Erik laugh, a welcome change from the mental frustration that had been oppressing him of late. He just hoped that Antoinette knew what she was talking about, for he was certain he could not endure this much longer.

"Christine had promised to take the children for a walk in the gardens and play with the kitten," he told her. "After changing my clothes, I plan on going for a ride on Phantom before working with the new horses for a bit. Could you see that Joseph has my horse saddled and ready for me when I arrive?"

"Joseph had some business to attend to in town and asked for the day off," Antoinette informed him as she followed him to the bottom of the stairs. "But I will send someone to inform Peter of your intentions."

"Very good," Erik nodded, as he began his weary climb. Perhaps a good hard ride would put his mind and body at ease. He certainly needed something to take his mind off of his troubles.

.

.

It had been a perfect day for a ride. The sun was shining, there was a gentle breeze and even though there was still a bit of spring nip in the air, it only seemed to invigorate. The exuberant ride on Phantom had been just what Erik had needed, working off much of his anger and frustration and leaving him calm and level headed once more as he began his training session with Angel.

Erik had been slowly working with the mare and decided that today was the day he would attempt to ride her. She had taken to the blanket and the saddle fairly well, and didn't even balk when he had placed a heavy sack of potatoes across her back and led her around. Perhaps she would accept his weight just as easily and soon she would be ready to safely bear Christine. The idea that this news might brighten his wife's mood only spurred him on and soon he was ready to mount.

Peter stood at Angel's head, holding her steady as Erik placed a foot in the stirrup and slowly swung himself into the saddle. The Arabian danced around a bit, trying to decide if this was something she needed to be frightened of, but Erik spoke to her in a calm and soothing voice, stroking her neck and doing all he could to ease her fears. Gradually she simmered down, standing still as she seemed to accept his weight.

It was then that he saw Christine and the children approaching the corral, little Bandit clutched in Amy's arms as they poked their heads through the fence boards to watch him. Ever since Erik had decided to parallel his trust exercises with both his wife and Angel, he had looked forward to this day. For he felt if he could succeed with the horse…perhaps he could do so with Christine as well. And while she had no idea the significance of him achieving his goal, to him it was a personal victory that gave him a glimmer of hope that things might improve between them. It might not be much, but right now, Erik could use all the encouragement he could get.

Christine stood there with the twins and watched as her husband attempted to ride the mare, knowing full well that to him this was the last item on his list to gain the horse's trust. If his plan was still in progress, this would have been a turning point in his mind for their relationship as well. And had he not lied to her and kept a mistress locked away in the very same house he shared with her, he might have been right. Christine chided herself for the millionth time for almost succumbing to his boyish charms and winsome ways, having been ready and willing to offer herself to him in every way a wife possibly could. At the time, the circumstances that had postponed that idea had frustrated her, yet now she saw them as a blessing.

Erik sat tall in the saddle and instructed Peter to release the mare's head and step away, so that only he and the bond they had forged would now control how she reacted. At first Angel did nothing, simply stood there, adjusting to the foreign weight on her back, deciding if she would accept it or not. She turned her head and looked back at Erik, her eyes full of indecision before she took a few tentative steps. He never stopped speaking to the horse in low, soothing tones, allowing her to set the pace and take him wherever she wished to go. He would not prod her or insist upon his way, simply let her choose her direction and ask to come along for the ride. It occurred to him that this was precisely what Madam Giry had advised him earlier and he shook his head in amazement at how truly similar earning a horse's trust had become to winning that of his wife. Maybe he had stumbled onto something that could be helpful to all men where women were concerned? This thought made him smile, thinking himself a genius…and that was when it all went to hell.

Angel had been taking her time deciding if she liked the idea of some burden being placed on her back this way. She had given it a lot of thought and had suddenly come to the conclusion that Erik had to go! So without any warning, she lowered her head, leaped forward and began to buck, kicking her hind legs in the air as she did her best to expel Erik from her back. She was amazingly successful, taking him completely by surprise and even though he was a seasoned rider, he found himself sailing over her right shoulder and landing on his side in a most unceremonious fashion. Angel, still kicking and bucking, raced around the paddock, with Peter chasing after her in an attempt to calm her down and regain control.

Erik rolled over and sat there for a moment, a bit stunned, but the only thing truly injured was his pride. When he had managed to collect his thoughts, he turned and looked over at where Christine and the children stood. He could see that both Robert and Amy had looks of horror and sympathy on their faces, feeling sorry for their father who had failed in his attempt to ride the spirited mare. Christine on the other hand, was now looking back at him with what could only be described as a satisfied smirk. Was his failure and sore backside truly amusing to her? Before he could analyze her reaction further, she broke eye contact with him and ushering the children away from the fence, she led them off towards the house. Not once did she look back.

Rising to his feet and dusting himself off, Erik came to the conclusion that if this was any sort of clue, he would _not_ be winning back his wife's affection any time soon. And that thought truly made him sad.

.

.

After his unsuccessful ride he spent the rest of the session just stroking and talking with Angel, doing all he could to repair the breach of trust that had come from attempting to ride her too soon. He needed to show more patience and not rush ahead when he knew she was not ready. He needed to give her time…just like he must give Christine. For anything worth having was worth waiting for - and he knew he would wait for all eternity if it meant earning her love.

"Master Erik!" the voice of Mr. Bower broke him from his thoughts as he turned to see the elderly butler coming towards the corral at a hurried pace.

"What is it Bower?" he questioned, handing Angel off to Peter as he rushed forward. The Butler hardly ever left the confines of the mansion, so his presence at the stables could only mean trouble.

"You have guests, sir," he said, doing his best to catch his breath as he stated his news.

"Guests…who is it?" And though he needed to hear it from the older man's own lips, he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly who it was.

"It is your father, Lord Cedric," he revealed. "And he has brought Mr. Daae with him. He has demanded to have an audience with you…and Lady Christine."

Damn! Erik swore to himself. He had hoped he would have more time to settle things with Christine before those two bastards had chosen to return, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Removing his riding gloves and throwing them to the ground in disgust he leaped over the fence in one bound and stormed towards the house, the elderly butler racing to keep up.

When he stepped inside he removed his jacket and did his best to brush off some more of the dust he had accumulated during his ill-fated ride before he smoothed down his hair, trying to calm his anger.

"Where are they now?" he asked, his irritation quite evident.

"I put them in the back sitting room overlooking the gardens," he informed him, holding up a clean jacket for Erik to slip into so that he could greet his guests properly.

"Where is Lady Christine, does she know of their arrival?" This had the potential of setting things between them back even further and he was not sure he could take that at the moment.

"No, sir," he said with a shake of his head. "They just arrived and I thought it best to alert you first. Do you wish for me to locate her and send her in?"

"Yes, and make sure Rose keeps the children sequestered in their rooms until that devil of a man leaves," Erik ordered, fixing his collar and taking a deep breath before he headed for the sitting room door.

.

.

**Uh OH, Daddy-Dearest is back! And he brought Max with him. What new horrors will they have to share?**

**Poor Erik, not only is he strking out with christine, he got thrown off the horse as well. Seems like no one likes him right now. Poor baby.**

**So did everyone like Christine's little blow up? M. Giry's words of wisdom?**

**.**

**Hey! does everyone know that Bensara91513 is posting an alternate ending to her masterpiece "The Secret Door"? One where Erik and Jenna get to be together...I hope. It is called, "_The Secret Door 2_". Go check it out!**

**.**

**Now for my new posting schedule this coming week. Since the next FIVE chapters are all about HUGE reveals...I will be posting one a day. Yes, I said ONE EACH DAY. Now...you must all promise to review for EACH chapter - no skipping, OK? If your responses drastically drop during this mass posting, I will be very reluctant to do it again. So get ready for things to start hopping on MONDAY!**


	30. Chapter 30

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**cyphyz**: I hear what you are saying. Christine SHOULD speak up and question him instead of being back and forth in her feelings, and perhaps in real life she would...but this is fiction, ha ha. Sorry you feel that the last chapters were 'filler' and perhaps to some extent they were - yet I would rather call them 'plot line direction devices'. However, I do hope no one is so upset with Erik thus far that they are unable to forgive him once they hear his reasonings. I mean, in the past he has been forgiven for kidnapping Christine, threatening Raoul, killing Bouquet and Piangi and being a master assassin in Persia, not to mention killing the gypsy guy (who totally deserved it), so I HOPE they can forgive him a few little lies to protect not only himself, but others as he has often stated. I hope you enjoy the next few chapters and Erik, Christine and my story are able to redeem themselves in your eyes and you continue to read on.

**Roseilea:** Yes, I have something completely different for Christine than to just sneak off in the night...as you will see when you read on. And hey, whats wrong with throwing things at Erik's head? ha ha. It could work?! Glad you liked the return of angry and possessive Erik...Christine however did NOT. ha ha. Angel paid him back for Christine though. Good for her!

**Guest:** I will for sure post more...lots and lots more!

**Musicalis:** The Evil Twins are up to no good of course, what else are they in this story for? Not my health or happiness. Glad you are happy about the new posting schedule. I am too.

**Guest 'Happy Writing'**: THANK YOU, now that makes sooo much more sense. The Gift movie I searched on was about some lady with psychic powers who was after some guy who killed his wife...THAT is why I was so confused. ha ha. And lets not sign up for any of Erik's Marital Relations classes just yet, OK? ha ha. He has a lot of learning to do himself first. But I think this chapter is his turning point and he will catch on pretty fast.

**Guest**: Well guess what...NOW you don't' have to wait any longer, the next chapter is here!

**PhantomChristine:** I am glad you are finding humor in it all - since you KNOW I will fix everything and make it all better. I don't do sad endings!

.

**When we last left our hero...he was just summoned to the back sitting room overlooking the gardens where Cedric and Max are waiting for an audience. What will happen next? Read on and find out.**

**.**

**Chapter 30**

.

.

"I was wondering if you intended to keep us waiting all day long," Cedric barked, upon seeing Erik enter the room.

"Heavens no," Erik sneered, his eyes narrowing in disgust. "The thought _never_ crossed my mind."

"If I didn't know any better, boy, I would say I detected a touch of sarcasm in your tone," the older man snorted, taking a long sip from his glass of whiskey. "I thought I taught you more respect than that."

"If I recall, your manner of teaching usually involved a switch or a belt," Erik retorted, sitting down in a chair facing the two men. "And while the method might stick in my mind, any lessons were lost because of it."

"That is more than obvious by your insolence and foul temper," Cedric countered, unwilling to let Erik have the last word.

"Well, _Father_," Erik spat, the title leaving his lips as if it were a curse. "I learned from the best."

Things may have turned ugly, both men locked in a heated battle of wills, neither one willing to back down, but the unexpected entrance of Antoinette, carrying the tea service, interrupted them. Sensing the tension in the room, the elderly woman sat the tray down on a nearby table and quickly excused herself. But her presence had successfully given them the opportunity to take a step back and calm their tempers.

"Why are you here," Erik asked, already weary of their company.

"We came to check up on our investment," Cedric informed him, taking a seat across from him, with his back to the large glass windows. "I wished to learn if there might be a legitimate heir to the Morant fortune on the way."

"And I was concerned about how my niece was getting on," Max spoke up, not fooling Erik for one moment with his manufactured display of concern. "How is dear little Christine doing? Has she adjusted to her new life as the lady of the house?"

"My wife is quite well," Erik told him sternly. "As for the prospect of any children, that is our business and ours alone."

"That is where you are wrong," Cedric assured him. "If you ever want to see the deed to this dilapidated old mansion, you will produce me an heir I can be proud of. And not one of those bastardly brats you seem to be so attached to."

Once more the situation could have turned volatile but a knock at the door interrupted them. Without turning away from his father, Erik growled admittance, quickly regretting his harsh tone when Christine was the one who entered.

"Ahhh, there is my girl," Max crooned in a sickening sweet tone. "And looking the picture of health and wedded bliss."

Erik decided then and there that Max was not only an idiot, but blind as a bat. For it was obvious to anyone with eyes, that Christine was neither of those things at the moment. He was not, however, going to point that out to either of these two men.

Max went to rise, probably intending on going to greet her like a proper relative would, but Erik quickly stood and intercepted him, making his way to her first. He could see from the look in her eyes that she was terrified to see both of these men back at Summercrest and his heart went out to her. The threats they had laid upon her at their departure, that of a brothel or a pregnancy, were most likely weighing heavy on her mind and he wished to do all he could to dispel such thoughts.

Taking her hand in his and tucking it safely within the folds of his arm, Erik patted it comfortingly as he guided her to a chair. He took his own seat beside her but never released her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure her that she was not alone.

Christine had been in a bit of a daze since Mr. Bower had informed her of Max and Cedric's arrival and their insistence that she join them. She had been infinitely relieved to learn that Erik was already within and that she would not be facing them alone. Yet just the sight of the two men had caused her to quake with fear, not wishing to endure the humiliation and degrading comments a second time. In fact, her cheek began to ache just a bit, as it recalled the vicious slap her uncle had given her that first day in the carriage. And even though she was still furious with Erik for what had transpired earlier, she couldn't help but feel protected and somewhat comforted by his presence.

"It would appear that my father and your uncle have dropped in for a very _brief _visit," Erik laid heavy emphasis on the word brief, hoping they would take the hint.

"Yes, we were riding through the area on our way to inspect some recent acquisitions and thought we would stop by and catch up." Max confirmed, making Christine breath a bit easier when there was no mention of them staying the night.

"Acquisitions, you say?" Erik remarked, suspicion rearing its head over the vagueness of the term. He never knew quite what it was his father was involved in, but he guessed it was more than likely shady and underhanded. "Would it be foolish of me to ask if everything was above board with this particular deal?"

"Yes," Cedric replied flatly. "It would be _very_ unwise for you to question me, boy."

"I couldn't honestly care less what it is you do, or with what lowlife scum you do it with," Erik continued. "Just leave me and my family out of it."

"Your _family_?" Cedric asked, raising an eyebrow. "Does this mean you have accepted your role as husband to this charming little thing? Or has your hideous countenance kept things on a more…business level for her? Reluctantly bedding you only to fulfill her duty to give you an heir?"

Erik knew his father was baiting him with his vile words in order to flush out the information he wished to gain but when Christine looked away, her face red with humiliation, he could not remain silent. Standing up he released a low growl of contempt, for both his father and his heartless words.

"I warned you once before not to ever…" Erik had intended to say more, to deliver a scathing reprimand to the man he reluctantly called his father but something just outside the window caught his attention and drove all thoughts from his mind save one…_oh hell!_

Christine had looked up in shock as Erik stood, but her expression turned to one of confusion as he seemed to have suddenly froze and quit speaking. At first she thought he simply could not think of anything horrible enough to say back but when she noticed that he was staring at something, she followed his gaze. She too was left speechless by what she saw. For directly outside the window, walking across the lawn in her long, flowing nightgown…_was Emily!_ How she had managed to find a way out of her room was a mystery to Christine, especially after all the effort it had taken her to break in. But there she was, stopping now and again to pick up a fallen leaf from the ground or a blade of grass, as if they were the most amazing things in the world. She had expressed to Christine her desire to go outside and apparently the girl was getting her wish, enjoying every moment of her freedom.

Erik could not breathe; he simply could not manage to make his lungs accept the air they so desperately needed. And he knew that if he continued to stare at the girl outside the window, then soon everyone else would turn and see her as well.

"Well, speak up, boy!" Cedric commanded, eager to find out if his son would reveal anything of importance. "Do you mean to leave me in suspense or to finish your pathetic threat?"

Forcing himself to gather what little composure he had left, Erik stumbled on with his words, knowing full well that his previous tirade had lost its driving force.

"You…you are not even worth the effort it would take me to draw breath to speak it," he finished, sitting back down, his gaze returning to the two men, yet his mind was solely on Emily. If either one turned around they would easily spot her standing there behind them, and then all hell would break loose.

Suddenly, like a bolt of thunder, it struck him that his father seeing Emily was not his only fear…what if _Christine_ did as well? Would the sight of her cause his innocent wife to speak up, to question him about the girl directly in front of his father and her uncle, thus sealing not only his fate but that of several others? He prayed that she had gone unnoticed by his curious little bride, that he alone was privy to her existence.

Turning his head slightly, Erik felt his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach when he saw Christine's eyes were already trained on the girl outside. He was done for, completely and utterly ruined. His first instinct was to fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness but this was impossible because of the two men staring directly at them. What was she thinking? He wished he could crawl inside her mind and somehow learn what horrible things she was now imagining, as she watched Emily traipsing around in her nightgown outside. He knew that she had been upset with him, but Erik prayed silently that she wouldn't choose this moment to seek her vengeance upon him. All he could seem to think was, _please don't betray me, Christine._

Christine pried her eyes away from her rival to meet Erik's worried gaze. She could see that he was petrified that she would alert everyone to Emily's presence, but she quickly recalled the words he had spoken to Antoinette the other day. _If Erik's father learned of the girl's presence in the house, something terrible would happen. _Whether that meant a reprimand for Erik or perhaps shipping the poor waif off to an asylum, she did not know. Either way, she knew she would not want to place that kind of power in the hands of an evil man like Cedric Morant. She may have been lied to and her marriage now in shambles but she could not bring herself to be the reason an innocent young girl came to harm, simply to seek retribution for her damaged heart. No, Christine could not be so cruel as that.

"Oh for the love of God, you do try my patience, boy!" Cedric stated in exasperation, downing the last of his whiskey. "I need another drink." He made the motion to stand but Christine was faster, rising to her feet suddenly.

"Please, allow me," she offered, walking over to where the tea service had been placed, drawing the man's attention to her and away from the window behind him. "May I pour you both some tea? Madam Giry is truly a wonder and makes the best I have ever tasted," she stated, and then noticing the pitcher of water as well, she continued. "Or perhaps some cool water to wash the dust from your throats?" She knew she was blabbering on, but her nerves were on edge and she had to say something in order to keep their eyes on her. A quick glance at Erik showed her that he was shocked by what she had just done, recognizing her offer of tea for what it truly was...a diversion.

"Yes, a cup of tea would be very nice," her uncle agreed, still doing his best to maintain his congenial appearance.

"Tea is for women and weaklings," Cedric announced, giving Max a withering look, which caused his companion to cringe in shame at his harsh words. "I need something stronger." This time Cedric _did _rise, intending to turn and refill his glass from the decanter that sat directly in front of the window where Emily was still in plain view.

Erik too shot up, grabbing hold of his father's arm in one final attempt to preserve all he had fought so hard to conceal, but when the older man jerked away, he knew he could no longer control the situation.

Christine was desperate, she had less than five more seconds before Cedric would turn and catch sight of the poor girl. So doing the only thing she could think of that might defuse the impossible situation, she let out a strangled cry, placed the back of her hand to her forehead and collapsed on the floor in a dead faint.

"Christine!" Erik shouted, having turned just in time to see her crumble in a lifeless heap. Forgetting his father, her uncle and even Emily, he rushed to her side, kneeling down as he lifted her head and cradled it gently on his lap. "Christine, darling, speak to me," he pleaded, patting her hand in hopes of her regaining consciousness. Was her fainting spell brought on by her delicate condition, the stressful visit from his father and her uncle, or perhaps she had not fully recovered from her bout of hypothermia? Whatever the reason was, he found himself overcome with concern for her and only wished to see her beautiful blue eyes open once more.

"Is she all right?" Max asked, also rising to his feet and coming over to stare down at her. "Is she prone to fainting spells such as this?"

"No, you fool! Now make yourself useful and get her a glass of water!" Erik fumed, thoroughly sick of the man and his idiotic questions.

Max did as directed, pouring some of the cold liquid into a glass and handing it to Erik. Cedric too had stepped closer and peered down at Christine's lifeless form, eyeing her with a perplexed stare.

"I thought you told me your niece was in good health," Cedric asked Max accusingly.

"I…I was told that she was," he stammered, "Those blasted nuns never mentioned if she was the sickly sort, and believe me they were only too eager to inform me of every little thing about her! I was forever dealing with irritating progress reports, detailing each petty achievement or a list of her grades. Yet, it was my understanding that she was the picture of health."

"Will you both shut the hell up!" Erik shouted, not wanting to hear one more word spoken, unless it came from Christine. He put the glass to her lips, urging her to take a sip, in hopes that it would bring her back to him. She opened her mouth slightly and as he dribbled in a few drops she raised her hand, pushing the glass away, coughing and sputtering a bit from the liquid. Setting the glass down, he brushed his hand over her cheek, watching as her eyes fluttered open. "Are you all right, my dear?" he asked, the fear still evident in his eyes.

"Yes…I think so," she told him, sitting up slowly as she did her best to appear dazed. The whole fainting spell had been an act but she could tell that all three men had fully believed it was real. Perhaps once she left Summercrest she would take up acting as a profession. Maybe she could find a position at some theatre in London, or perhaps an opera house in Paris?

"Here, let me help you up," Erik offered, standing in front of her as he took hold of her hands and assisted her to her feet. He kept hold of her waist, ready to support her should she suddenly feel like passing out again.

Christine was positioned facing Erik with her back to the other two men and the window, so she was unable to see if Emily was still in danger of being spotted. Leaning in a bit closer she whispered quietly, so that only Erik could hear her.

"Is she gone?" she asked, gesturing with her eyes in hopes that Erik would understand her meaning. "Is she safely away from their sight?"

Erik was ashamed to admit that in all the excitement of Christine's collapse, he had completely forgotten about Emily and the danger she had placed them all in with her untimely stroll. His eyes darted to the windows and with a sigh of relief he saw no further sign of her. That did not mean that she couldn't wander back into view at any moment and his concern over the idea renewed his fear. Yet as he turned back and saw the alert and inquisitive look in his wife's eyes, it caused him to wonder… had Christine just faked all this in order to prevent Cedric from discovering Emily? And if so…_why_?

Unable to answer his own question, Erik instead responded to hers with a brief nod, watching the relief that flooded her face.

"Please forgive me," Christine began, turning out of Erik's embrace and facing the two perplexed men. "I just got a bit dizzy is all, I think I need a little fresh air. If you will excuse me, I believe a walk in the gardens will clear my head just fine." She then gave them a polite curtsy before looking back at Erik. She placed a reassuring hand on his chest as she lowered her voice so only he could hear her. "I will see to Emily, you stay here and get rid of them as quickly as possible." With that she hurriedly left the room, leaving a stunned Erik behind.

_Christine knew about Emily_? How? When? Every fiber of his being screamed for him to run after her and ply her with questions until his curiosity was sated. But she was right, he had these two devils to deal with first. He would simply have to trust her to handle the care of Emily until he could be rid of his father and her uncle without rousing any suspicion. And as Erik turned his attention back to the puzzled looking men, he began to realize that there was far more to his amazing and mystifying wife than met the eye.

"Well that was quite odd," Max stated, still a bit stunned by everything that had just transpired. "What do you think brought that on?"

"Perhaps my worthless son here finally managed to do something right," Cedric chuckled, walking over to pour himself another drink at last. "Is it possible that she was light headed from the effects of carrying my grandchild? If so, I am forced to compliment you on your efficiency, Erik. Although that leads me to question the girl's sanity if she allowed a masked freak like you to even touch her."

Erik knew he should be riled by his father's improper jest, yet with his mind focused on Emily and Christine, it was hard to rise to the occasion. It was hardly the worst thing his paternal figure had ever said to him and it would certainly not be the last. So with a disgruntled snort he turned his full attention on getting rid of the two men.

"If all you intend on doing is insulting me and my wife, I would prefer you simply leave," he informed them, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave them a look of death.

"All in good time, boy," Cedric stated, once more taking a seat and leaning back as if he planned to stay a while. Max too sat down, but unlike his business partner, he perched on the edge of the leather chair, not sure how to react in the face of Erik's ire. "I have a few business matters I wish to discuss with you before I leave."

As Erik retook his seat, bracing himself for a mind-numbing conversation with this tedious man, he placated himself with thoughts of the day when Summercrest would officially be his and he could throw this sorry excuse for a father off his property and forbid him to ever return. That, or he would just kill him and be done with it. Either way, it brought a slight smile to Erik's face as Cedric droned on.

.

.

Once out of the study, Christine quickly hurried to the side door, exiting the house and scanning the gardens left and right until she spotted Emily over by a bed of tulips. Thankfully she was now far enough away from the large glass windows to no longer be in any danger of being seen.

Carefully approaching the girl from behind, she spoke her name quietly so as not to spook her. It would certainly not do for Emily to become frightened and begin to run from her, potentially crossing in front of the sitting room window once more.

"Emily?" Christine called, watching the girl who had bent down to take in the scent of the vibrant colored flowers of early spring. At hearing her name she rose quickly and spun around, acting like a child who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Emily, it is me…Christine. Do you remember me?" They had not quite parted on the best of terms the other day and Christine was unsure how she might react to her presence. But to her relief the fear suddenly left the girl's eyes and a bright smile spread across her face.

"Yes, I remember," she nodded, "You came to visit me the other day, didn't you?" Emily then moved closer to her, taking her hands in her own as a sign of friendship. "Isn't it a beautiful day? I can't remember one as pleasant as this. Look, the flowers are just starting to bloom." She pulled Christine over to where she had been inspecting the tulips, so proud of them one might have thought she planted them herself.

"Yes, they are very lovely," Christine agreed. "But I think it is best that we go back inside the house now. You are not quite dressed to be out and with no shoes on you could easily catch a cold."

Christine's suggestion instantly upset Emily and the girl dropped her hand and backed away.

"No, please don't make me go back inside," she practically begged. "If Erik or Antoinette realize I snuck out, they will never let me come outside again. Please don't tell them, it can be our little secret. Just let me stay out here a bit longer, I simply can't go back in so soon."

Christine stared at the pleading look on the young woman's face and then back to the house, not knowing exactly what to do. She knew she could not let Emily run around where anyone could spot her, least of all Cedric and her Uncle Max, but neither did she want to be the one who crushed the girl's spirits by condemning her back to her locked room. So instead she struck upon another idea.

"All right, we do not have to go back in yet," she told her, watching as Emily's eyes grew excited once more. "But I still think running around in the open in nothing but your nightgown is a bit indecent. How about we go visit the stables, I could introduce you to my horse, Angel. She is very nice and I think the stable-hand Peter keeps a few apples on hand that we could feed her."

This suggestion seemed to appeal to the little escapee, and she eagerly allowed Christine to lead her towards the building where the horses were kept, keeping clear of the house and all its windows. Christine had heard from some of the servants at breakfast that Joseph had gone into town for the day and she was extremely thankful that they would not run into him by going there. If that had been the case, she would have suggested taking Emily someplace else, but as it was, the stables would offer not only protection for her bare feet, but keep her out of sight from prying eyes. She only hoped that Cedric and her uncle would quickly conclude whatever business had brought them to Summercrest and Erik could be rid of them. She had no doubt that he would be able to locate them as soon as he was free and she was already busy trying to dream up what she might say to him. A few choice words came to mind and she would just have to decide in the moment if she was too much of a lady to utter them out loud.

.

.

After what seemed like hours, Cedric and Max announced it was time to take their leave, and Erik could not be rid of them fast enough. The moment the two men had mounted their horses, which had been tied up in front of the house, and disappeared down the tree-lined driveway, Erik ran back inside, almost colliding with Antoinette as she came around the corner.

"Where are Emily and Christine?" he shouted, grabbing the woman by both arms.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, looking at him as if he had lost his mind. "Emily is in her room and I thought Christine was with you!"

"Wrong on both accounts," he muttered, releasing his housekeeper as he headed for the back door. "You search the house while I look outside. Find them!"

"Heaven have mercy," Antoinette muttered, her eyes growing wide as she turned and headed off to begin the hunt.

.

Once outside Erik stood there and scanned the grounds, trying to think of where the two women might have gone. The implications of this pairing was disastrous and the longer they remained together, the more damage could be done. After seeing no sign of them in the gardens, his eyes fell upon the stables in the distance and something told him to look there first. So crossing the lawns with his quick long strides he reached the building in no time. The large double doors were open and looking in he breathed a sigh of relief as he instantly spied what he sought. Christine and Emily were standing in front of the stall where Mr. Cricket was housed, laughing and talking as they took turns feeding the greedy little pony apples.

The sound of Emily's laughter almost brought tears to his eyes, for it had been a very long time since the poor girl had anything to be happy about. He had done all he could over the past four years to make it up to her, but nothing could undo the pain and grief she had suffered, once more leaving Erik feeling guilty and responsible. Not wishing to intrude on this pleasant scene, yet knowing he must, Erik made his way to the back of the stables where the two women stood. Christine was the first to spot him and her smile quickly faded as he approached, taking a step back almost in fear. When Emily turned to reach for another apple, she too saw him walking up, but instead of acting concerned like Christine, her smile only widened.

"Erik look!" she called, reaching out her hand to him and pulling him closer to the stall. "He is just as fat as your little pony, Pudge. Do you remember him?"

"Yes, Emily, I remember," Erik nodded, giving her a pained smile in return as he reached up and stroked her hair in a loving manner. This was the first time he could remember that she spoke of the past without it upsetting her. Suddenly noticing that she was still only wearing a lightweight cotton nightgown, he shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, helping her insert her arms and then buttoning up the front. "There, that should help to keep you warm until we can get you back in the house."

"No! I don't want to go back in the house!" she argued, pulling away from him and walking over to Angel's stall, giving the apple she had in her hand to her instead of Mr. Cricket, much to the pony's dismay. "I want to stay here and visit the horses and play with my new friend, Christine." She gave Erik a defiant look, daring him to suggest such nonsense again. "I am tired of staying in my room and I am tired of everyone telling me I cannot go outside."

"Emily," Erik began, his tone showing his growing frustration. He had had just about all he could take for one day and all he wanted to do was return things to normal so that he could sit down with Christine and assess the damage today's revelations had caused. Sensing his anger, Emily backed away from him, her eyes narrowing as she grew more stubborn. Christine however, stepped in front of him before he could advance on her, holding her hands out before her as she tried to reason with him.

"I doubt that she will go willingly, Erik," Christine warned him, looking over her shoulder in time to see Emily stick her tongue out at him, forcing her to stifle the spurt of laughter that threatened to come out. "I think it best you let her have a bit of freedom first, before you lock her away again."

Erik was taken aback by the tone of anger in Christine's voice. He was very confused, almost to the point of pulling out his hair. Obviously his wife had prior knowledge of Emily's existence, otherwise how would she have known her name? But if she knew…why was she acting so upset with him? Perhaps she did not know the whole story but he began to understand that it might be time to trust Christine with his deepest secrets. And the thought scared him to death.

"How did you…" he began, but he was not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Fortunately, or perhaps not, Christine finished it for him.

"How did I find out that you have been lying to me?" she accused. "How did I know you were keeping Emily locked away like a prisoner in that room in the east wing?" As she spoke she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, ones she swore she was done shedding but they still threatened to fall. "Or maybe you are wondering how I can even stand to look at you, knowing that you swore to my face that you did not have a mistress and yet here she stands right in front of my eyes? Is that what you are wondering?"

Erik's mouth fell open in complete shock. Did he just hear her correctly? It had sounded ludicrous the first time she had accused him of keeping a woman on the side, but this time it was downright insane! Christine thought Emily was _his_ _mistress_? But before he could even form the words to defend himself, Emily spoke up.

"His mistress?" she laughed. "Can you even imagine such a thing? Erik with a mistress? What girl in their right mind would ever want to be with a dunderhead like him?"

"Emily, be silent!" Erik told her sternly, causing the girl to give him a sour look and turn her attention back to Angel. He then took a step closer to Christine and taking hold of her gently by both arms he pulled her to him until their faces were only inches apart. "I do not know where you come up with such far-fetched ideas, but for once in your life, believe me when I tell you that I have no mistress or lover on the side. I have not been with a woman in almost four years and I have no intention of breaking our marriage vows by taking one now. You are the only woman I want to share my bed with. I love you Christine, and only you!"

"You…you _love me_?" Christine gasped, her tears halting as she stared at him in complete disbelief.

"Oh God," Erik moaned, lowering his head to hers until their foreheads were touching. "This was not how I wanted to say those words for the first time, not how I wanted to tell you of my feelings. But yes, I love you, more deeply than I ever thought it was possible to feel for another person. I love you, Christine Morant, and I never want you to doubt those words."

Christine was in shock, complete and utter shock and she did not have any idea what to say in return. Yet if that was true – and she sincerely prayed it was – then who was Emily?

"But…the children?" she whispered, her hushed tone making him raise his head back up to look at her. "You can't tell me that Emily is not Robert and Amy's true mother, for the resemblance is plainly there. So if she is not your lover as you claim, how do you explain them?"

"Yes…Emily is their mother," he agreed. Then looking over at where the dark haired girl still stood feeding the horse, oblivious of their secretive conversation, he pulled Christine away just a bit so there was no possible way she might overhear his next words. "Emily is their mother…but I am _not_ their father."

"What?" Now she was really confused. "But they call you Papa, and their eyes…they have _your_ eyes!"

"No…they have their grandmother's eyes." Erik corrected. "The twins inherited them from her, just as I did. But they were passed down through their mother, not through me. Emily is not my mistress…she is my sister."

"_Your sister_?" Christine suddenly felt as if she could no longer stand, her legs giving way slightly as she felt like she might fall. Erik was quick to take note and he hurriedly steered her over to a bench and sat her down, kneeling in front of her as he continued to hold her steady.

"Yes, Emily is my younger sister, by almost eleven years, and on her deathbed I promised my mother that I would always look after her," Erik continued, his hands now taking hold of hers as he rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumbs. "The twins refer to me as their father, because I am all they have ever known. And when Cedric found out they existed, it was safer for him to believe that I had fathered them out of wedlock than to know that they were Emily's children. It tore me up inside to have to lie to you like I did about them, making you believe they were mine, but it is imperative that no one thinks otherwise."

"Why?" Christine begged, pulling his hands up to her chest and squeezing them tightly in desperation. "Why must people think you are their father? Why do you have to keep Emily's existence here a secret? What happened to her? What are you still not telling me, Erik?"

"Oh Christine…so very much," he admitted, lowering his head in shame. "But no more. I swear I will tell you everything. Every horrible, dirty secret of my despicable past. Just not here and not now. First I need to get Emily back into the house and away from any prying eyes." He looked up at her, cupping her face with his hands and wiping away the tears that had pooled in her eyes that had yet to fall. "I swear I will never lie to you or keep anything from you again, Christine." He then gave a slight chuckle and shook his head. "Though it appears I have been less than successful thus far, my inquisitive little daisy. But you are my wife and before the sun rises tomorrow, I swear you will know everything."

"Wife?" Emily asked, having come up behind without them their noticing. She was looking at Erik and Christine with a surprised, but pleasant, smile on her face. "You got married, Erik?"

Erik stood, taking Emily by the hand and pulling her closer to where Christine still sat.

"Yes, I did," he told her with a proud grin. "Emily, may I officially present you to my bride, Christine Morant. Christine, this is my little sister, Emily."

Christine stood and extended her hand, this time more than pleased to be introduced, seeing as how she no longer saw Emily as her rival.

"That means we are not just friends," Emily gushed excitedly. "But now we are sisters as well!" Ignoring her outstretched hand, she instead engulfed Christine in an enthusiastic embrace. "I am so happy, I have always wanted a sister. But I never thought any woman would ever want to marry my silly old brother." She pulled back and gave Erik a playful shove. "Especially when he goes around wearing that ridiculous mask all the time. You still never have explained to me what game you are playing by wearing that."

Christine could see Erik stiffen up at her mention of his mask and she wondered if that too would be on the list of things he planned to reveal to her. Yet even if it wasn't, Christine could rest easy knowing that she no longer had to worry about Erik's fidelity, or his love for her. Emily was not her enemy, and while Erik still lied to her, at least it had not been about his true feelings for her. He loved her…he had said it out loud and from the look in his beautiful golden eyes, she knew it was true. Now she just had to pick the right time to say those very same words back to him. She loved her husband, her Erik, and before the sun rose the next morning he too would know the truth.

"Come on Emily," Erik began, this time not taking no for an answer as he swept his sister up in his arms. "We really do need to get you back inside. You are not wearing any shoes and though its true you never were much of a lady to begin with, even you must realize being out in your night dress is quite unacceptable behavior."

"You are such a storm cloud, Erik," Emily pouted, wrapping her arms around his neck as she turned to her now sister-in-law. "How can you possibly stand him, Christine? He can be so bossy at times."

"I have learned to appreciate his good points," she assured her as they headed out of the stables. "He may not have many, but I intend to keep searching till I find them all." Christine looked up at Erik beside her and gave him a sly smile, making sure he understood that she was only teasing him.

"Ganging up on me already, I see," Erik huffed, rolling his eyes. "I _knew_ letting the two of you meet would be a huge mistake."

His words sent Emily into fits of giggles, which became infectious, until all three of them were laughing as they exited the door and headed back to the house.

After their voices faded into the distance, a dark shape with a sinister look and a devious smile slowly stepped out of the shadows. His sudden appearance caused Angel to let out a whinny of fright as she pranced around her stall, doing her best to keep as far away from the bald headed man as possible.

"Easy there, little miss," the man told the agitated horse, never taking his eyes off of the stable doors the trio had just exited. "Well, now…this is indeed a fortuitous turn of events."

.

.

**OH CRAP! I thought Joseph was in town? Why did he have to come back early? Now what horribleness will this bring?**

**SO? Are we all happy now that we know who is who and who loves who and who is not a mistress but a sister? Hmmmm? Is Erik forgiven yet? If not I am sure you will find it in your hearts to do so as he explains it all to Christine and gives his reasons for it. As he promised, all will be revealed before the rising of the sun! And he was not lying about THAT!**

**How did Christine do? Even spitting mad at Erik, she still would not throw him, or Emily, to the wolves. And for ONCE, a visit from Cedric and Max led to good things. Granted Erik almost had a heart attack, but it all turned out well and he has his happy little daisy back! AND he told her he loved her too! Now...it is confession time!**

**ALSO, I just posted a review from Roseilea that I have been holding back for a while. (I hope the FF site will be fixed soon so you all can view it) Way back in chapter 23 she sent in her review giving me her guess on what was going on. Well that girl was almost 100% right about everything. So much so that I held her review back so that the rest of you would not see it and know how my story went. ha ha. Take a moment and go read her guess and see just how right she was. I know many of you have since guessed the same things, but she was the first to do so and with amazing accuracy. Erik will be right over to deliver your rose for being spot on, Roseilea!**

**More chapters heading your way...TOMORROW!**


	31. Chapter 31

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**Frenzyvammi:** Oh I loved that fainting scene in Pirates of the Caribbean! But trust me, everyone took note of Christine fainting. ha ha. Who the twins father is will be told in the next chapters. Erik keeps Joseph around because he does not know he is evil. He puts on a good show in front of the boss.

**Musicalis:** yes, things are looking up for our lovers. Aren't we glad that Cedric and Max did not stay for long. As for Joseph...he is just up to no good.

**PhantomChristine:** THANKS for saying so! Also, I just received your review for chapter 27 today (crazy FF site) and you just go right ahead and think that my characters are real people and worry about them all you want! I don't mind at all.

**Guest: ** I am glad that 'you knew it'! Kind of nice when your guesses work out, right?

**CherryChocoholic:** Thanks for catching the Paris Opera House reference there, ha ha. You are the first to mention it. Yes, Erik has MUCH more honor than that! And if you skim through all confrontations...then you will be skimming half my story, ha ha ha ha.

.

**Now lets see how Erik decides to tell his lady love the truth!**

.

**Chapter 31**

.

.

Entering through the back door, Christine went ahead, checking to make sure there were no servants milling around, before signaling to Erik that the coast was clear. They quickly made their way up the stairs and were just about to enter Emily's room when Madam Giry came rushing towards them, flushed faced and out of breath.

"You found her!" she said with a sigh of relief, coming forward and giving Emily a kiss on the forehead. "You frightened the daylights out of me, girl. I was turning this house upside down looking for you!"

"I am sorry, Antoinette," Emily told her, looking duly contrite. "But it was such a pretty day and the flowers were in bloom…I just had to go outside."

"Yes, well, you are back safe and that is all that matters. No harm done." The housekeeper then looked up at Erik, before sneaking a glance at Christine. "Or am I wrong on that point?"

"Well, my wayward sister here gave us a bit of a fright and certainly led us on a merry chase," Erik began, giving Emily a very stern look. "But thankfully, Christine saved the day and managed to keep Emily's existence a secret from…_our guests_ today." He chose not to mention their father in front of her, not wishing to run the chance of upsetting her.

"Then…you know everything?" Antoinette asked, turning her wide eyes towards Christine.

"I know _some_," Christine quickly corrected.

"And I fully intend on telling her the rest as soon as possible," Erik assured them both. "But for now, I think it best we get this little runaway back where she belongs."

"Agreed," Antoinette nodded, unlocking the door and holding it open as they all filed in.

It did not take long to get the young woman settled back in bed, her impromptu outing having quite tired her out. As they turned to leave, they were stopped by the sound of Emily's sleepy voice.

"You will come back and visit with me again, won't you, Christine?" A small yawn interrupting her question.

"Of course I will, Emily," she assured her. "I will bring up my needlepoint and maybe you can teach me some new stitches, I see that you are much more skilled at it than I am." This seemed to please the girl and she closed her eyes once more and drifted off into a pleasant sleep.

The three of them then made their way down the steps and out the door, locking it behind them as usual. Yet this time, instead of putting her key back in her pocket, Antoinette instead handed it to Christine.

"Here you go, my dear," the older lady said with a kind smile. "I think you have more than earned this today. I am terribly sorry for allowing you to believe it was me whom you heard crying up there. But as I am sure Erik will explain, it was simply far too dangerous to be letting anyone in on the secret of Emily's existence."

"I do not hold any grudges against you, Antoinette," Christine assured her. "And it does make me glad to know that you are not so terribly depressed as I was led to believe."

"You were very kind to be worried about an old servant such as me. Your concern was very touching," she told her, giving her a warm hug of appreciation. "You must know that you two have my full love and support."

"In that case, Antoinette, I will take advantage of your generosity and ask a favor," Erik broke in, reaching down and taking Christine's hand in his. "My wife and I have a lot of things that need to be revealed and discussed. If you would please see to Emily and the twins, Christine and I will be sequestered in our room for the rest of the night."

"Without dinner?" she asked, knowing that their unexpected guests had caused them to miss out on lunch as well.

"We will see to our own needs where food is concerned, you just make sure we are not bothered for any reason," Erik assured her, heading off down the hall with a confused Christine in tow.

First he took them down to the kitchen, where he searched the cupboards and icebox until he found what he was looking for. Handing Christine a wicker basket he loaded it up with cheese, fruit, bread, some leftover ham from breakfast and even a bottle of wine. When he was satisfied with his choice, he took the basket in one hand and hers, once again, in the other. Without a word, Erik led her back up the stairs and straight to their room.

Once inside he sat the food down on the table and headed back to the door, bolting it from the inside, now confident that they would not be disturbed. Yet when he turned back around he got the shock of his life. Before he could speak or even think, Christine had launched herself into his arms, pressing her inexperienced lips to his in the most delicious kiss he could remember.

At first he was too shocked to respond, but soon his body recalled what to do and his arms quickly snaked around her waist, pulling upwards until her toes barely touched the floor. He was not quite sure what had brought this on but he was not about to question it now, simply allowing himself to enjoy it. She was so warm and receptive, her own hands weaving their way through his hair, leaving him moaning at the sheer pleasure of it all. He backed them up until she was pressed against the wooden bedpost, trapped between him and the unyielding object.

"Erik…I have…something…I need to tell you," she whispered between gasps of pleasure as his lips began to trail down her neck.

And while at that moment, Erik strongly felt that speech was overrated, his curiosity got the better of him, causing him to raise his head and look into her desire filled eyes.

"Yes, my little daisy?" he asked, cupping her face as he placed a few more kisses to her already swollen lips.

"I…I love you," she stammered, searching his eyes for a reaction, and she got one. His whole body froze, and his breathing all but stopped as he simply stared at her. "Erik…did you hear me?" His silence was beginning to make her nervous. He had told her of his feelings, she thought he would be happy to hear hers.

"Yes…yes I heard you," his voice barely a whisper. "I…I am just having a difficult time believing you." When she opened her mouth to protest he silenced it by placing his finger over her lips, wishing to speak instead. "When I told you of my feelings, I did not do so in hopes you might feel compelled to respond in kind. I know I have hurt you, more times than I even care to think about, so how can you say such things to me…especially now…and mean them?"

"It is true, I _was_ very angry with you," she nodded. "The lies you told me and the secrets you have been keeping hurt me deeply. Yet once before you proposed that we begin fresh, that we forget the mistakes we made in the past and wipe the slate clean. Today you gave me hope that those days of living with deception are over. With that being said, I feel somewhat compelled to take a measure of blame in all this. It was unjust and unkind of me to immediately jump to the conclusion that Emily was your…your lover. But in my defense, you can't fault me for such an assumption when you purposefully kept her identity a secret. Yet now…now that I _know_ that you have not been unfaithful to me, that you are not the tyrannical monster I imagined, I wish to start over with you once more." She reached up and encircled her arms around his neck, standing on tip-toes in order to bring her lips as close to his as possible without quite touching. "Can we just go back to how things were before Robert ran away? Pretend that we have just come home from the Kingsford's ball…and pick up where we left off? For _that _Christine was very much in love with her husband and she was ready to make theirs a true marriage. I would like to be _that_ girl again…if you wish it."

"Oh Christine," Erik moaned, crushing her to him in a desperate embrace. "I must be dreaming, for such bliss cannot possibly be mine. Yet I feel you in my arms and I can taste your sweetness on my lips, dare I also believe what my ears insist they just heard? Say it again, please Christine…for the sake of my sanity, say it again."

"I love you," she told him, her head still buried in his chest. "I have loved you for some time; I simply did not understand what it meant." Christine pulled back and now took his masked face in her hands, her fingers grazing the edges of the leather, shocked to see that his eyes were welling up. She had reduced her strong, brave husband to tears with her confession of love and while her heart took pity on him, her mind reveled in it. "I love you, Erik Morant, and I want…I want you to make me your wife…completely." Once the words were spoken Christine suddenly became shy, fiddling with his collar, her eyes no longer able to meet his.

"Are…are you sure, Christine?" he asked, his voice deep and husky with desire. He reached out and tipped her chin up so he could see her face, desperate to know if there was any fear in her eyes. Yet while he did detect a bit of trepidation, there was no dread, only innocent longing. "You request this of your own free will? No coercion, no regrets?"

"None," she stated firmly.

"Yet I have not revealed my secrets to you like I promised," he argued. "You would offer yourself to me without the knowledge I have long withheld?"

"Do you have a lover, Erik?" she asked.

"No, none!" he assured her.

"Are you currently the father of any children that I do not know about?" she persisted.

"No, you are the only woman I ever wish to see carrying my child," was his definitive answer.

"Do you love me, Erik?" was her final question.

"More ardently than I ever thought possible," he was quick to confirm. "When the bards and poets write about love, they do not do justice to what I feel for you, my little daisy. You have filled my heart to bursting and I do not know how I would survive without your tender presence sustaining me from day to day. I love you with all I have."

"That is all I need to know…_for now_," she told him, her last few words guaranteeing that she would demand the truth in time. "I will do as you ask and trust that you will keep your word and reveal everything to me…in the morning." And with that she claimed his lips once more, her body craving his kisses, his touch and his undeniable love.

Erik was overwhelmed with emotion as he lifted her into his arms and gently laid her on the large bed behind them. His mouth never broke contact as he continued to ravage her lips, drinking in every bit of pleasure she was doling out so generously. His hands began to search their way up her side, touching, feeling and at last discovering the treasures they sought. So many nights he had dreamed of how she would feel beneath his hands, and now he knew. _Pure heaven_. His touch caused her to moan, his lips capturing the delicious sound as he let one of his hands begin its journey down her side, crossing her hip and continuing on towards her leg. Fisting the fabric of her dress he began to work it upwards, his fingers stopping to graze the creamy flesh of her outer thigh, feeling the shivers they were causing. He was about to bring his hand inwards, when a thought hit him like a ton of bricks. He could not do this!

_She was on her monthly cycle! _

With a moan of pure torment, he pulled his hand back and all but catapulted himself off of her and the bed. He stood a few feet from her, running his hands through his hair as he took several deep breaths, doing all he could to calm his overheated body. Oh this was madness!

"Erik?" Christine asked, propping herself up and resting on the back of her elbows as she stared at him with eyes full of fear and confusion. "Did…did I do something wrong?"

It took Erik a moment to even register that she had spoken, so wrapped up in his own personal hell to have heard her. But when he did, and saw the tears hovering in her eyes, he realized how it must have looked to her. Quickly coming back over to the bed, he sat down beside her and brushed his hand over her hair, pulling a few strands between his fingers as he smiled sympathetically.

"No my darling, you did nothing wrong at all," he assured her. "I should have realized…I mean I should have remembered…that…well, we can't do this right now."

"Why?" she asked, completely oblivious to what it was he was trying so desperately_ not _to say.

"Christine…" Erik began, fearing he would have to speak the actual words. It was she who had told him not to touch her before, that it was uncomfortable for her when he did so during this time. Yet, could she truly be so uninformed in the ways of physical love that she did not realize they could not do other things as well? Things like _this_? "We can't…can't engage in marital relations while you are…are…in this _condition_."

"My condition?" Christine tipped her head to the side as she tried to understand what he was talking about. When it dawned on her what he meant and she finally understood his looks of discomfort, she began to giggle.

"Christine," Erik huffed, his indulgent nature giving way to irritation. "I see nothing humorous about this situation and if _you_ do, then I must say I find your lack of empathy very disconcerting."

"Oh Erik," she said, doing her best to stifle her mirth. "I am not laughing about that…I am laughing because…well…I am afraid that this time…I lied to _you_."

Now Erik was very confused, and a bit afraid as well. She lied? About what? Her love for him, or perhaps wanting him to make love to her? _What_?

"And dare I ask what it is you have been untrue to me about?" He wished he could sound upset, but in lieu of what he had done, the secrets _he_ had been keeping, he realized he did not have a leg to stand on.

"I wasn't completely honest with you when I told you my time of the month was upon me," she answered, blushing slightly at her confession.

"You…what?" he did not know if he should be shocked or elated. Oh the hell that woman put him through the past few days…and it had all been a lie? "Why?"

"Because I was hurt and angry with you," she explained, sitting up and placing herself next to him, her hand resting on his arm in an apologetic manner. "I thought you had betrayed me and though I craved your touch desperately, it hurt too much to think you were giving such attention to another as well. I could not think of any other way to discourage your amorous behavior…so I lied."

"I see," Erik nodded, admittedly impressed with her form of deception. It had been _extremely_ effective. "And just how long did you think this ruse would have lasted? I would have eventually become suspicious, you know."

"I realize that," she looked away, once more ashamed by what she was about to admit. "I had planned…to run away…to find someone to help me make my way back to the abbey to hide. My hope was to leave Summercrest _before_ you discovered my fraudulent claim."

"_The hell you say!_" Erik yelled, standing up from the bed and taking a step or two backwards, his heart suddenly in his throat.

"Erik, please understand…" she began, reaching out her hand to him, but he continued to back up, his eyes ablaze with the fire of madness.

"You would have simply snuck away like a thief in the night?" he demanded to know. "Left me without so much as a word or explanation?" Erik found that it was getting difficult to breathe just thinking about it. He could just imagine himself waking to find her gone; the house empty of her presence, and no one would have been able to tell him where she was. And being unaware of her knowledge of Emily, he would have been at a loss as to _why_.

"But it didn't come to that," she was doing her best to calm him down with her voice and gestures, but he would hardly look at her. He just kept pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists as he muttered to himself under his breath. "Erik, you must realize, at the time, I believed I had no choice."

"Yes…yes," he told her, waving his hand towards her in a dazed manner. "I…I do understand…I do." And he did, truly, but he just could not comprehend it at the moment. _Christine…gone_? Was the room getting smaller? He was feeling rather light headed at the moment and perhaps it was best if he sat back down. Approaching the bed he perched at the foot of it, leaning his head back against the corner post. "I know I had left you with very few options once you discovered my deception. But to think that I almost drove you away due to my own stupidity…well, I am just very glad that…that…" he found himself unable to even finish the sentence, the idea so unthinkable.

Christine quickly scooted down towards him, sitting back on her heels as she took his face in her hands, noticing the perspiration that was present on the little bit of skin that remained uncovered.

"I am right here, Erik. And I am not going anywhere…not ever," she promised, grateful that his breathing was slowing to a normal cadence once more.

"Christine…we must settle this now," he began, bringing his hands up to cup hers, as he pulled them down and held on to them as if they were his lifeline. "You can _never_ leave me!" He shook his head sadly, realizing just how sinister and controlling that must have sounded. "What I mean is, you must never simply leave. I would not survive it if you did. You must talk to me, tell me if something is bothering you, and we can work it out _together_. I would have died for sure had you suddenly vanished like that. I would not have been able to let you go, I would have scoured the countryside till I found you. The sisters at the abbey would not have been able to conceal your whereabouts from me, for I would not have left a stone standing if they continued to keep you hidden. You are my _wife_ and I love you. Together we can overcome any obstacle… anything, do you hear me?" Touching her was helping to calm him and soon he could feel the madness leaving him, the fear crawling back into the dark recesses of his mind where it always existed. "Who…who would you have gone to for help, should you have tried to leave me?" He was not sure why he requested to know, perhaps only needing to have it all laid out before him in his mind so he could insure that it would never came to fruition.

"I had planned on going to Clair Kingsford and ask her to help me make it back to the abbey," she explained, telling him of her pitiful escape plan. "I had hoped they might hide me there, at least until I decided where to go next. I am still not of age, thus subject to the whims of my guardian, and had my uncle found me…well…he…"

She did not need to finish her sentence for Erik knew exactly what it was she meant to say. So pulling her into a crushing embrace, he did his best to stop his hands from trembling as he stroked her hair.

"I told you before, you will never see the inside of a brothel as long as I draw breath," he swore. "Your blasted uncle should be shot for what he threatened to do to you. But I am your husband, and it is my duty…nay, _my privilege_, to care for and guard you with my dying breath. You are my wife, and I protect what is mine!"

"And I feel nothing but safe in your arms," she assured him, wrapping her own around him as she held him just as tightly. After a few minutes of silence, he once more began to speak, this time sounding much more like his normal self.

"You were going to go see Clair Kingsford, were you?" he asked. "I am glad to hear that. For I would have been quite indignant, and a bit homicidal, if you had petitioned Amir for protection from your double-dealing husband."

"Well, it did cross my mind, for I know so few people in the area," she admitted. "But I had overheard you and Antoinette talking and you mentioned that Amir was well aware of Emily's existence, so I knew that he was on your side and could not be trusted." It sounded so silly to say such things, now that she knew the truth, yet at the time, it was how she felt.

"Yes, Amir is quite familiar with Emily and her situation," Erik nodded sadly. "In fact he is far more involved in all this than you can imagine. You see…Emily was not always like she is now. She used to be sound and whole, and Amir…well, Amir was in love with her. Still is, in fact."

"He is what?" she gasped, not sure why this news shocked her so, for she had long since deduced that Erik's friend was nursing a broken heart from some unrequited love. It had just never occurred to her that it was…Erik's sister! Her eyes got even larger as something occurred to her. "Are…are Robert and Amy…_his_ children?"

"No. Sadly, they are not," Erik informed her. "Though he would claim them in a heartbeat, for he has grown to care for them as if they _were_ his own. Amir has been besotted with Emily since she was sixteen, but my father, in all his prideful bigotry, deemed Amir unsuitable and forbid him to court her. This devastated them both, for until you came into my life, I had never known a love as deep as theirs. And if Amir is suffering a fraction of what I know I would have, had you managed to make good on your plans to leave me, then the man is literally in hell."

"How did they meet? Through you?" Christine asked, eager to hear the story. "When did they fall in love?"

"It was I who first introduced them, when I brought Amir back to Summercrest on holiday from school," Erik confessed. "She was only twelve when they first met, but even then I could tell he fascinated her. I thought it a harmless crush, and knowing Amir to be an honorable man who saw her only as a child, I did not give it any credence. It was not until she turned sixteen, that Amir suddenly sat up and took notice of the beautiful woman she was on the verge of becoming. He told me later that it was then that he lost his heart to her forever. If you wish to know more on the subject, you will have to ask him, for I never could stomach hearing him extol the virtues of my own sister."

Christine felt Erik give a slight shudder and she couldn't help but smile at his visceral reaction. Yes, listening to a man, even his best friend, speak words of love for his baby sister must have been difficult.

"Perhaps you might be more receptive to hearing _me_ extol _your_ virtues?" Christine asked, playfully, running her hands up his chest and wrapping them around behind his neck.

"I am afraid when it comes to you, my little daisy, I have very few virtues…and even less self-control," he told her, taking advantage of her lips being so near and claiming them once more in a voracious kiss. Her words of leaving had left his body depleted of lust, yet after a few simple kisses and hungry touches, he was right back in need.

He was about to lay her back down, ready to reinstate his exploration of her delectable body when he felt her tiny fingers begin to undo the buttons on his shirt. Erik sucked in his breath as he realized in mere moments his chest and back would be bared to her, leaving his shame exposed to her inquisitive eyes. And as much as he wanted to allow her to continue, to encourage her unexpected and much appreciated vixen-like attitude…he knew he had to stop her. He needed to explain what it was she was about to see for fear that she would become disgusted by it and possibly even fear him. So with a groan of utter frustration, he reached up and took her gently by the wrists, pulled her hands away from their efforts.

"Christine," he managed to choke out. "I think before we go any further, I need to tell you the truth about me. I need to explain some things about what you are about to see."

"See?" she asked, looking at the one or two buttons she had already undone. Remembering the odd shaped mound of flesh she had felt beneath his shirt that one morning, she understood what he was getting at. "You wish to tell me about the scar you bear on your side?"

"That…and others," he nodded.

"There are more? What happened?" Christine asked, looking up at him and seeing the pain reflecting in his eyes. There truly were so many questions, and Erik _had_ promised to give her answers.

"I think it is high time I told you everything and this is as good a time to start as any," he told her with a heavy sigh. So resting his back against the bed post once more, he turned her around and pulled her against his chest as he wrapped her in his protective embrace. "It all took place four years ago…that is when my life went to hell."

.

.

**Well here is comes! The ugly truth (no pun intended). So, did you like Erik's reaction to Christine's lie and escape plan? His bits of truth he revealed so far? The pre-smut light? Oh please tell me! hee hee.**

**WARNING: Now...the next three chapters are the ones I told you about at the beginning of this story. They are a bit violent and somewhat graphic. (though my Beta and Pre-readers all tell me that I never crossed any lines) but I am warning you now...it might be a little painful to read. OR I might be stressing over nothing and no one will think twice about it. However I believe you all know that Erik does not hide his face and body for no good reason...so you kind of saw this coming...right? Just please do not judge the chapters too harshly and be gentle with your reviews...I am fragile. ;0)**

**They will be done in the form of flashbacks - so when you begin the next chapter please take note of the date - four years in the past.**

**Thanks for all your support and kind words so far...please don't fail me now.**


	32. Chapter 32

.

**Guest Reviews:**

**PhantomChristine**: I agree, Erik deserved that little 'wake up call' thinking he almost made her run away on him! And oh man, that would be funny - next time she has her cycle he is like "ARE YOU SURE...you are not just saying that because you are mad at me are you? You won't run away will you? Do I need to lock you in the East Wing?" ha ha ha ha

**Guest:** Glad you loved it!

**CherryChocoholic:** Erik did get a bit claustrophobic, didn't he? And 'deface someones property' was a very good/bad pun! Made me laugh though. And i agree...there is more ways than one to skin a cat. (don't worry Bandit, I don't mean you, ha ha)

**Guest**: Please do not die...even of happiness, OK? I would miss your reviews!

**Guest:** Well sweetie, I am already doing one chapter a day, so there is not much more room for any bonus chapters. This one IS VERY long though, does that help?

.

**WARNING: These are the adult themed chapters...read responsibly. You have been warned.**

**And remember...we are starting off with a flashback - four years in the past.**

**.**

**.**

**Chapter 32**

**_London, England 1831_**

_._

_._

As Erik stepped off the train into the familiar English fog, he felt it rather comforting to once more hear his native tongue being spoken all around him. Yet, even that could not ease the tension in his body, as he wished for nothing more than to reach the mysterious address the letter firmly clutched in his hand directed. Amir was not far behind him, informing the porter of which hotel their luggage was to be delivered. The trip from Persia had been interminably long, made even more so by how anxious Erik was to get back home. The last two years in Amir's home country had been both entertaining and vastly educational for Erik, teaching him things about life, pleasure and the inner workings of his own mind. Unfortunately, some of the things he discovered about himself were not very pleasant…in fact, most were quite dark and dangerous.

Erik had come to the Middle East with a large chip on his shoulder, looking for an outlet for his bottled up rage, courtesy of his controlling and degrading father. No matter what Erik did, it had never been enough to make him proud. And regardless of where he went, it never seemed far enough to escape that blasted man's manipulative reach. Since his mother's death, and his father's subsequent abandonment of their family estate, instead taking up residence in London, Erik's only sanctuary had been Summercrest. Having chosen to leave the care of his children to the servants and a string of governesses, Erik and Emily had been left to themselves, relying on each other for any love and family support. This had pleased Erik just fine, wanting nothing to do with his father if he could help it, but he knew Emily had felt differently. She had never known her mother, so in her young mind, their father, no matter how vile, was someone she always wished to be close to. Yet over the years, as her letters to him went unanswered and his infrequent visits left the tenderhearted girl in tears, she too came to realize there was no pleasing the man. Thus to Erik, Summercrest had long been a safe and cleansing haven for his troubled soul. He made a point to return there as often as possible, especially since Emily had seemed quite forlorn when he had gone off to the university. But when Amir invited him to visit his native land, Erik jumped at the chance to explore a new country, as well as put several thousand miles, and a body of water, between him and his father.

Persia was a vastly different culture than Erik had ever experienced and had it not been for Amir's watchful eyes and constant reminders, he feared that the lure of excitement and danger could have easily got him into some serious trouble. The sights, the sounds, the temptations of pleasure and power, had at times overwhelmed him. His roguish good looks and seemingly endless supply of money had made him very popular with the ladies of the land and many a desperate mother had all but thrown their daughters at him, hoping to snag a wealthy son-in-law. But taking a wife was the farthest thing from Erik's mind, and while he used such opportunities to the full, he never once looked at the girls with marriage in mind.

However, before long Erik became restless and the often violent surroundings had done little to calm his unpredictable temper, instead only nurturing it to greater heights. Amir became concerned, suggesting to Erik that it might be best if he return home but he had become addicted to the lure of that country, much like one would to a potent drug.

Yet when a mysterious letter arrived two years into his visit, Erik packed his bags and immediately booked passage home to England. Amir, never one to abandon his friend in times of trouble, accompanied him, hoping to return the favor Erik had once bestowed upon him.

So it was that Erik found himself standing in front of the large gates of a home on the edge of London. It was an ominous looking building, surrounded by a massive stone wall that would deter even the most ardent of burglars.

Erik had already sent Amir ahead to the hotel to get them settled in. His friend had wished to come along, but he had insisted on going alone.

"More than likely, this will all turn out to be some wild goose chase and I will be joining you at the hotel in no time," he had told Amir. Yet as he said the words, even he did not truly believe them. Now, as he pushed the gate open and entered, walking purposefully up to the large wooden doors, Erik found that he believed them even less.

Before knocking he opened the letter and read the words once more, reminding himself the importance of following through with this cryptic note. It read; _Please come. Emily needs you. _No more, no less, but it had been enough to cause Erik to travel thousands of miles to find out why it had been sent. This was the address found on the back of the envelope and so here he was, eager to put his heightened fears to rest.

Reaching up he took hold of the brass knocker and banged loudly on the door. He waited a few moments before knocking a second time, much louder and longer in hopes of receiving an answer. He was just about to give up when the door opened and a well-dressed man, the butler he presumed, stood before him looking quite perturbed.

"May I help you, sir?" he inquired, his tone revealing no wish to do so.

"I am looking for Emily Morant," Erik told him, trying to sound as if he knew exactly what was going on, though he still had no clue. There was a good chance this was all some elaborate hoax and his sister was nowhere near this house. He had left her back at Summercrest, in the care of her long time governess, Mrs. Baily. Yet repeated letters to the mansion had yielded no response and the lack of correspondence from his younger sister over the past six months had become very disturbing.

"I am sorry, but the lady of the house is not in at present," the man informed him snobbishly. "May I take your card and inform the master of your visit?"

"Then Emily Morant does live here?" Erik deduced, looking up at the large brick house as if he hoped to spot her in a window or something.

"Lady Emily does indeed, sir," the man continued, sounding more irritated at Erik's persistent questions. "Now if you wish to give me your name I will inform Master Radcliff that you stopped by."

"Radcliff?" Erik was shocked. What in the hell would his sister be doing mixed up with that vile family? And why would she be living here and no longer at Summercrest? He needed answers but he knew he would get none from this pompous windbag.

"Your name, sir?" the butler persisted.

"Tell Emily that her brother Erik wishes to see her immediately," Erik told him. "I will return tomorrow, but she can reach me at the Lexington hotel on Regent Street any time."

"I will see that she gets the message upon her return." And before Erik could speak further, the door was shut in his face.

Erik took a few steps back and looked up at the house once more, a scowl of confusion and fear on his face. This did not set well with him, not well at all! Turning he left the premises and headed directly to the flat his father owned, determined to get some answers even if he had to beat it out of the man.

.

.

Two hours later, Erik sat in shock, his mind incapable of comprehending the unspeakable thing that man had done to his own daughter! To offer her hand in marriage to man she did not know or love, simply in order to seal a business deal with the scoundrel's father? _His Emily_, his sweet and delicate sister of only seventeen? How could his father have done such a thing?

"She may have balked a bit at first but I am sure when she saw the size of the house, as well as the man's bank account, she warmed up to the idea," Cedric told Erik with not a single note of compassion. "At least _she_ showed respect for her father and family name, doing as she was told…_unlike you_."

"You rotten bastard!" Erik growled, rising to his full height, rage blazing in his eyes. "Why was I not told of this? Not one letter informing me of her engagement and impending marriage? How long have they been wed?"

"Going on five months now I would say," Cedric said after a moment of thought. "I see them from time to time at restaurants, dinner parties and other functions. They appear content."

"Content? How the hell can she be content, married to a man like William Radcliff?" Erik continued, his disgust for the man more than evident in the way he spat out his name. William had to be one of the most repugnant and vile men Erik had ever come in contact with, surpassed only by the man's father, Lord Simon.

"Money can buy a lot of goodwill and your sister is no different from every other woman," Cedric told him, waving his hand in the air as if lumping every female into one category. "She will wear the finest clothes, live in a mansion and attend the most lavish parties. What more could she ask for?"

"Love?" Erik argued. Though he never believed such a thing was destined for him, he knew that Emily had found it. And as far as he knew, still loved Amir with all her heart.

"Oh and I suppose you are referring to that infidel friend of yours?" Cedric roared, getting to his feet and facing off with Erik. "I will not have the Morant bloodline tainted by an inferior match! She is bound to another now and there is nothing that you, or he, can do about it!"

"We will just see about that!" Erik threatened. "And if I find that Emily is not happy, I will see that you rot in hell for what you did to her!" Without giving his father an opportunity to respond, he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

.

.

Erik spent the next five days making repeated visits to the Radcliff home and each time he was told that Emily was out or resting, thus unable to see him. He left letters and messages for her, but she did not return any of them, leaving both Erik and Amir beside themselves with fear. This was not like her at all.

On the sixth day Erik decided that he would not be turned away again. If the butler told him she was resting he was going to knock the man down and race through the house until he found her. Yet when he pounded loudly at the door, this time a new face greeted him upon its opening. William Radcliff stood there, cocky and proud as he eyed Erik with suspicion.

"I was told that you have been stopping by," he greeted him, crossing his arms over his chest. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I am here to see Emily," Erik informed him, glaring at the man with the same hateful look that was bearing down upon him. William Radcliff had never been one of Erik's favorite people, having met the man on many occasions while attending university as well as social events. He was considered a handsome man, for whatever that was worth, with sandy blond hair and a well chiseled jaw that had many girls flocking around him like bees to honey. He was tall, yet not quite as tall as Erik, and while his imported clothes fit his frame, Radcliff was far from muscular. Truly, Erik could not see what the fuss was all about.

"_My wife_ is currently out with friends doing a bit of shopping," William said with a shrug of indifference. "I will tell her that you dropped in to pay your respects."

"No, you will not!" Erik threatened. "I will sit here on this doorstep until she comes home and speak with her myself. You can't keep her from me forever!"

"Keep her from you?" William laughed, apparently humored by the idea. "I am doing nothing of the sort. If she is too busy running a household or spending time with her friends to see you, that is her affair, not mine." He then gave a huff, as if speaking with Erik was far too tiresome. "Tell you what I will do. How about you and your father come for dinner tomorrow night? I will make sure Emily is not busy with some charity function or whatever it is that keeps her occupied and we will all have a chance to sit down and chat. Would that satisfy you?"

It did not, but at the moment it was the only way Erik believed he might finally get to see his sister.

"Tomorrow night?" Erik repeated, his tone a threatening one. "You swear she will be here?"

"This is her home and I am her husband, where the hell else would she be?" Radcliff chuckled, amused by Erik's suspicion.

Erik was still suspicious, yet the prospect of seeing Emily at last allowed him to leave the house as he counted the hours until the following night.

.

.

Amir had been difficult to placate, wishing to storm the place himself and spirit away his lost love but even Erik knew that was an exercise in futility.

"She is married to him," Erik argued, doing his best to try and make Amir see reason. "Maybe in your country a man can just steal a woman away from her husband without repercussions but here it is a criminal offense. I am not saying I intend to just leave her there but Emily is not one to take such sacred vows lightly. I only hope I misjudged Radcliff and he is indeed a good and dutiful husband to her. Yet if he is not…then I will know of it by tomorrow night and rain down retribution upon those responsible."

.

.

The following night Erik hired a horse at the local livery and rode to the house himself, unwilling to share a handsome cab with his father. They met at the front door, having arrived promptly at seven as instructed and were ushered into the parlor by the snooty butler named Bancroft. Erik had just removed his coat and scarf when he heard the familiar sound of his sister's voice on the stairs.

"Erik!" she called, racing down the steps and launching herself into his arms. He embraced her back, relishing the feel of her safely in his presence again, his heart a bit lighter at the sight of her. "Oh how I have missed you, brother dear," she told him, pulling away to look at him.

Even though she was all smiles, he quickly noted that her happiness never quite reached her eyes and the fact that she referred to him as 'brother dear' was a red flag if Erik ever saw one. Taking her by the hand, Erik pulled her aside, wishing to speak to her alone where no one might overhear.

"Emily, are you all right?" Erik asked, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking deep into her eyes, searching for any sign of unhappiness. "Why didn't you write me and tell me of your wedding?"

"Oh I did not wish to bother you," she explained, pulling back as she continued to smile up at him. "It would have taken you weeks to return and we couldn't postpone the wedding. After all, you were all the way in Persia, visiting your friend."

"My _friend_?" Erik's eyes narrowed at the way she described Amir. For a girl who once had sworn she would go to her grave loving that man, she sure had an odd way of referring to him now. "Emily…are you happy?"

"Of course she is happy," the voice of William Radcliff assured him from behind, causing Erik to whip around. "Isn't that right, my pet?"

William stepped forward until he was standing right next to Emily, slipping his hand possessively around her waist. The fact that his sister seemed to flinch at her husband's touch only heightened Erik's sense of alarm. However, it had been such a slight movement that even Erik was a bit unsure over it.

"Yes…of course," Emily told Erik, keeping her eyes trained on him and not her husband. "Very happy."

"Well fine then," Cedric broke in. "If that is settled, how about you play the proper host and get me a drink!"

The rest of the evening went along fairly well but through it all Emily behaved like a person reading from a script. Her conversation topics were benign, her comments always polite and not once did the smile she wore leave her lips. All of this left Erik extremely confused and distressed. She had done nothing all evening that he could point to and declare her unhappy…but he could feel it in his bones. Just before they were to leave, Erik once more cornered his sister, begging her with his eyes to tell him the truth.

"Is this the life you truly want?" he questioned. "What happened to the wild spirited girl I grew up with?"

"She grew up as well," Emily said, reaching up to touch his cheek fondly. "I am a woman now Erik and a wife. I have responsibilities and duties to this house and my husband. It was time to put childish fantasies away." Seeing William standing nearby, his gaze trained on the two of them, she disengaged from Erik and went to his side. Slipping her arm into the crook of his, she smiled once more at her father and brother. "It was so good of you two to come tonight. I do so hope we can do this again sometime."

Erik looked crestfallen, feeling as if he had just been dismissed, when he considered himself no closer to learning the truth in all this. He wanted to question her about the letter he had received, to find out if she had sent it or had someone else. But as the butler handed him his coat and scarf, he knew he would have no further opportunities to do so.

The seemingly happy couple waved to them as the two men walked down the steps, shutting the door behind. Erik watched as his father climbed into his cab and without even a word of farewell, told the driver to take him home. Erik was left standing there alone as the young servant boy held out the reigns to his horse. With a heavy sigh, Erik accepted them and swung himself up into the saddle, urging the animal towards the gate.

He had just exited the property, making his way down the deserted cobblestone street when he heard the sound of someone hissing his name from the darkened bushes nearby. Erik reigned in his mount, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he scanned the shadows, trying to determine its source.

"Who is there?" he asked harshly, dismounting and preparing himself for battle, should the person turn out to be unscrupulous. Yet when he saw a woman, probably in her mid-forties, step into the light, he relaxed just a bit.

"Please, sir," the woman said in hushed tones, her eyes scanning left and right as if she were afraid of being seen. "I need very much to speak with you."

"About what, pray tell?" Erik asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"About your sister and the letter I sent you," was her startling reply.

"_You_ sent me the letter?" Erik asked in surprise. "Who are you? Why did you send it?"

"My name is Antoinette Giry and I work here as the housekeeper for Master Radcliff," the woman told him. "I sent you the letter because it was the only way I could think of to protect your sister."

"Protect her?" Erik's eyes narrowed into hard slits. "Protect her from what? If she is in danger, why didn't she write me herself?"

"She tried, multiple times, but each time Radcliff intercepted them, tossing them into the fire," Antoinette informed him. "The poor girl has done everything she could think of to contact you, even attempting to sneak out and run away. But William has her guarded day and night and after what he did to her the last time she tried to run, I doubt she will try again."

Erik felt as if a fist had just grabbed his heart and began to squeeze. The underlying implications of this woman's words left him frozen with fear.

"What…what did Radcliff do?" Erik asked in a cracking voice, afraid to learn the answer. "Speak plainly woman!"

Antoinette hung her head, apparently not wishing to repeat things she knew would only cause the young man pain. Yet that was why she had risked everything to send the letter, to help the poor girl. As her brother, he needed to know the dire situation his sister was now in.

"William Radcliff is not a kind man," she began, knowing this was not news to him. "He is controlling, possessive and has a violent streak that only gets worse when he has been drinking. It did not take long for Emily to see through his deception and realize just what kind of man she had been forced to marry. He monitors her every move, never allowing her to leave the house unless he accompanies her and far too quickly his abusive words turned into physical acts," Antoinette paused there when she heard Erik suck in his breath quickly. "He is a very wicked man and as brave and spirited as your sister can be, she is no match for his strength. At first he was careful not to strike her where the bruises would show but each time she angered him, he would go one step farther. Then, when she finally tried to run away, he…he…"

Erik took a step closer to her and grabbed the woman by the arms, shaking her slightly as he tried to get her to continue.

"Out with it! What did that monster do?" Erik growled.

"He gave her a horrible beating and locked her in the cellar with no food or water for two days!" Antoinette's eyes were now filled with tears as she stared down at the dirty street, unwilling to look at the pain this news had caused him. "I wrote you the letter the very next day, sending it out in secret by giving it to the man who delivers ice to the house every week."

Releasing the woman, Erik stepped back, both hands going to his head as he tried to even process what he had just heard. How could that fiend have treated his precious little Emily in such a barbaric fashion? How!? He let out a long, low moan as the bile in his stomach reached his throat. Staggering backwards he made it to a crop of bushes just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the shrubbery. The image of his poor sister used in such a way threatened to overwhelm him and he had to fight to remain upright. When he had nothing left to expel, he leaned against a nearby tree, resting his head against the trunk and shut his eyes against the pain.

"Sir, are you all right?" Antoinette asked cautiously, realizing her news had been a terrible shock for him.

"No...and I don't think I ever will be again," he assured her, feeling as if his life had suddenly taken a most devastating turn.

"I am so sorry to have had to tell you such things but there was no one else who might help." She looked around once more, checking to see that they had not been discovered, before pulling her shawl a bit closer around her arms to keep out the chill.

"What about our father?" Erik asked, opening his eyes and looking at his newly discovered ally. "Surely he would have done something if he had known the situation!"

"Sadly…no," Antoinette muttered, shaking her head. "He happened to drop by a few months after they were married, and was eyewitness to the bruises Master William had left on her cheek. Yet, he did nothing. Even going so far as to blame Emily's defiant spirit for it, saying that if she only obeyed her husband better, he would have no reason to reprimand her in such a way. I think that was the day that the poor girl began to lose hope, to truly feel that she was trapped with no way out."

"I will kill him!" Erik ranted; pushing off of the tree as he stalked to and fro, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. "I will kill Radcliff and my father!"

"Do not underestimate Master William," she warned. "I have seen that man do terrible things in the three years I have worked here. His father, Simon Radcliff, is as evil as they come and twice as powerful. With the influence he wields in this town, his son thinks he can get away with murder…and he has!"

"If you know of his crimes, why do you not turn him in and have him arrested?" Erik accused, disgusted by the woman's lack of a back bone. "Or at the very least leave his employment?"

"Don't you think I would if I was able, sir?" Antoinette stated, her temper flaring a bit at his accusation. "Yet if I were to leave this house or defy that beast, I would be thrown in debtor's prison and my young daughter forced to slave for that wretch in my place to settle the account!" She then took a long sad breath as she revealed her painful history to him. "My husband, Gerome, was a good man, yet he was never very shrewd when it came to business and three years ago after a debilitating accident, he found himself heavily in debt to William Radcliff. When he was unable to find work or pay the unreasonable fines that were imposed up on him, Radcliff threatened to have my poor Gerome incarcerated. My husband begged him for time to pay it down, even offering to work off the debt doing any job he could for the man. Master William agreed to the idea but since my husband's injuries left him unable to do much, he employed me as his housekeeper instead. I was forced to sign papers saying I would be his indentured servant until the debt was paid. It was the only way to protect my husband but in the end, I believe it was the guilt that killed Gerome, leaving me without a husband and my little daughter Meg with no father. So you see, sir, I am taking a great risk just speaking to you now and telling you of your sister's plight. If Master William finds out, I could be thrown into jail myself…or worse."

"I am sorry," Erik apologized, realizing that this woman was indeed very brave for what she was doing. "I never meant to insult you that way…I am simply overcome by all this. I am sure you are only doing what you must to protect yourself and your child."

"My Meg is indeed the only reason I agree to remain in this hell-hole," Antoinette nodded. "After the death of my husband I was forced to bring my little girl here to live with me, for there was no one to watch her and I hated the idea of us being parted. She was only thirteen back then, a mere child, but Master William assured me he could find some job for her and that she could help to work off the debt as well. Yet the day I saw that filthy animal leering at her with lust in his eyes was the day I shipped Meg off to live with my sister several counties away. It breaks my heart to be separated from her like this but I would not risk the chance of him taking advantage of my little girl in that way!"

Erik's heart went out to the woman for her plight, his admiration for her growing even more as he realized exactly what it was this woman was risking by helping his sister. However that still left the question of why Emily had not said anything to him at dinner. If she had only spoke up he would have swept her out of there faster than she could have blinked.

"Yet if Emily is trapped and being treated so abusively, why did she say everything was fine?" he asked.

"Fear," Antoinette answered. "Not only for herself, but for you as well. Master William's power over her is not simply physical now, but mental as well. She has been the victim of both his brutality and his sinister mind games. The threats and intimidation often leave more scars than fists. I overheard him telling her before you arrived that if she even gave a hint of unhappiness, he would see that _you_ were the one to suffer for her disobedience. And she believed every word."

"She kept silent for me?" Erik was stricken to the heart over this. His little sister was willing to endure hell to protect him. Well, no more! He would see her free!

"Emily loves you very much," the older woman nodded. "That is why I had to get word to you about her mistreatment. When I heard you had come at last, I was so relieved. Yet I knew there was no way Radcliff would allow you to see her at that time. He had you turned away each day for a week, in hopes that by the time you finally did get in to see Emily, her most recent bruises would have faded. But just knowing you were now in London gave me hope. I knew you would be the one to save her."

"And I intend to do just that!" Erik growled as he turned to head back to the house, determined to storm the place and kill Radcliff.

"No!" Antoinette called, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him. "He is not alone tonight. In anticipation of trouble, he brought in several large goons to subdue you, should you have made any attempt at dinner to rescue her. If you go back in there now, they will certainly kill you and then where would Emily be?"

"What am I supposed to do then?" Erik spat, anger threatening to override his good sense. "Just let her stay with that monster?"

"No, I would never have sent the letter if I had intended that," Antoinette assured him. "But this must be planned out carefully so that neither of you gets hurt and Master William does not suspect I had any hand in assisting you. In two night's time, Master William will attend a weekly poker game down at his club. Emily will be left at home with only one or two men guarding her. I will unlock the door to servant's entrance for you and you can sneak in and spirit Emily away before anyone is the wiser. Can you reign in your temper and wait two more days to ensure your sister's freedom?"

Erik felt torn. He knew the woman was right; it would be foolhardy to rush in unprepared, risking not only his life but that of Emily as well. No…he would wait for the perfect opportunity. Yet until then, his time would not go ill spent, for he had much planning of his own to do. Amir would assist him, he never doubted that, and between the two of them - three if he counted this brave housekeeper - they would rescue Emily and hide her away from not only her abusive husband but his own cold hearted father as well.

"Yes…I can be patient," Erik nodded resolutely.

"There is one more thing I should tell you, sir," she added, once again lowering her eyes as she prepared to dole out bad news. "There is a very good chance that your sister…is with child."

"What!" Erik couldn't believe his ears. It was difficult enough to comprehend how this man had treated her so horrendously, but to hear that he had also dared touch her in an intimate manner, well that was just too much. "How…how could she allow him to…?"

"As I said, Radcliff is a strong man and your sister was no match for him when he demanded his husbandly rights," Antoinette told him, quickly coming to the girl's defense. "She is not far along, in fact I do not think even she realizes her condition yet. But all the signs are there and I fear that if we do not get her to safety soon, his cruel treatment of her could easily cause her to lose the child. And should Master William, or his father, learn that she is carrying the heir to the Radcliff fortune, there would be no way in the world we could ever get her away from them. They would follow her to the ends of the earth to get the child back."

Erik was silent for a bit, clearly stunned by this new piece of information. Yet he now understood just how important it was that they do this right, for there was no room for mistakes with so many lives on the line.

"What do I need to do?" he asked, his jaw set in determination.

**~XXXX~**

"So I left William Radcliff's home that night with a bitter and heavy heart," Erik told Christine, pausing in his unpleasant tale of the past. The two of them had moved to the settee in front of the fireplace some time ago, both partaking of the meat, bread and cheese they had brought up earlier as he told his story.

"So this William Radcliff is Robert and Amy's father?" Christine deduced, her eyes still wide with shock and compassion over the horrible account he had just related.

"Unfortunately, yes," Erik nodded. "It was indeed a bitter pill for Amir to swallow when I told him everything that night. He was devastated; his face turning white as a sheet as he listened to the dire situation Emily had been placed in. Amir is a proud man but that night he gave way to heartbreaking sobs at the thought of his dearest love being put to such pains by that beast of a man. He cursed Radcliff in multiple languages and then berated himself in several more for not staying and protecting her. It didn't matter to him that our father had threatened to have him shot if he ever came near her again, he would have risked anything to be with her. But they both knew that she was still very young and marriage had been out of the question at that time, without our father's consent. So instead she convinced Amir to go back to Persia, to bide his time and not stir the hornets' nest any more than necessary. It had been their hope, that when she came of age and she was no longer under the rule of our father, they would reunite and be wed at last."

"Poor Emily," Christine lamented, wiping away the tears she had shed during his telling. She found the similarities between her situation and Emily's to be quite unsettling. Had her uncle not done the very same thing to her? Forcing her into a marriage with a man she had never met? And yet, while Emily had drawn the short straw when it came to husbands, Christine could not have been more fortunate. She truly blessed the day she had come to Summercrest and met Erik. Yet her mind remained troubled by the plight he had laid out before her in his story. "I feel dreadful for Amir as well, he must be so distraught. But what happened next? Did everything go as planned?"

"Perhaps it would be best if we finish our little picnic before I continue," Erik suggested, picking up the bottle of wine and moving to refill their glasses. But Christine covered the rim with her hand, stopping his efforts.

"No more for me, please," she requested. "One glass is quite enough."

"Oh?" Erik said with a quizzical look in his eye. "I hope you do not think I am trying to get you intoxicated so that I can have my way with you."

"No…it is just that…" she looked down at her hands as her face grew red with embarrassment.

"Just what?" Erik persisted, wondering what it was that would cause her to blush so.

"Remember when I told you about that girl at the school… the one who stole the sacramental wine on a dare and drank half the bottle?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, I remember," Erik in fact recalled everything she had ever told him about her past, having stored it all way in his memory and heart. "So?"

"Well…that girl…was me," she confessed, turning even redder and covering her face in shame. "It made me so sick that to this day I cannot handle more than a few sips without my stomach remembering exactly how horrible I felt."

If Christine had expected Erik to show pity for her, or even chastise her like Sister Margret had, she was quite mistaken. For instead of being cross, he began to laugh heartily. At first she was shocked at his reaction but as he carried on, her surprise gave way to annoyance.

"You find this entertaining, do you?" she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff.

"Here I told you that I would reveal my past to you and yet now I discover that my innocent little daisy is instead a wild rose," he joked, finding the look on her face quite endearing. "Not only have you become drunk in the past but you have also taken to telling me lies. It would appear that you and I are quite two peas in a pod. Now all you need to do is develop my horrible temper, as well as my habit of sticking my foot in my mouth, and the transformation will be complete."

"I am _not_ amused," Christine informed him, turning her head slightly as she gave an indignant huff.

"Come now, my daisy," Erik cajoled, reaching out to tip her chin back so that she was looking at him. "I did not mean to insult you; I just found the similarities comical. Please forgive me, I never meant to injure your sensibilities." He then leaned in and kissed her pouting lips, unable to resist the sight of them sticking out so prominently. "Am I forgiven?"

"I suppose," she answered, her ire already subsiding with his gift of a kiss.

"Yet the deception you so easily played on me brings up a question," Erik mused, letting his fingers intertwine in her hair. "Your fainting spell earlier in the sitting room…was that real or simply a ruse to distract my father and your uncle from noticing Emily."

"What do you think?" she asked, placing the back of her hand to her forehead, as she had done before and collapsing against the settee cushion. Her stunt was less convincing this time however, due to the fact that she was giggling the whole time.

"Why you little minx!" Erik scolded, chuckling to himself as well. "You scared me to death, leaving me to believe you were seriously ill." He reached out and pulled her back into a sitting position, stroking her cheek with the tips of his fingers. "I can't believe you went to such lengths to help not only Emily, but me as well. For at that time you still thought she was my mistress and me an unfaithful lout. Why did you do it?"

"It is true, I _was_ very angry with you," Christine confessed. "But no matter how hurt I felt, there was no way I wanted a villain like Cedric to hold power over you for any reason. You were still my husband and no matter how hard I tried, I could not rid myself of my feelings for you."

Erik reached out and engulfed her in his arms, pulling her to him as he wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"Oh Christine," he murmured, kissing her on the top of her head before resting his chin there. "I was such a fool to ever doubt your loyalty and understanding nature. I had spent so long fighting to keep Emily's existence a secret, that I was unwilling to let anyone, even you, my brave little wife, into my confidence. And yet you have proven time and again that I can trust you, even with my life."

"I would _never_ betray you, Erik," she assured him, leaning back so she could look into his eyes that she loved so dearly.

"I know that…now," he smiled. "Yet some of my sins involved others, thus they were not my secrets alone. While I might have wished to trust you, I could not put their lives at risk simply because I felt I should take you into my confidence. But no more! You have proven yourself worthy of the truth and the truth you shall have. I only hope that once you have heard it, you will not grow to hate me."

"Erik…I could never hate you!" Christine argued.

"Oh but you could, my innocent little daisy, you most certainly could," he told her. And taking a deep breath, Erik prepared to continue his tale.

.

.

**Erik is off to a fine start. He has laid the foundation for more revelations. So...Emily was 'sold' into a loveless marriage with a horrible man by her greedy father - that husband is not treating her well at all - Amir is ready to kill - Erik has teamed up with M. Giry to rescue his poor sister - and Cedric is no help at all! Jerk! **

**Did you laugh when you found out that Christine was the girl who stole the wine at the school and got drunk? ha ha. Erik did!**

**FYI...I am getting very close to receiving my 1000th review for this story! As a prize for that person who sends in that review...I will PM them the whole next chapter ahead of time - giving them a free look at what is to come. I wonder who it will be!**

**Now lets go see what else Erik has to tell...shall we?**


	33. Chapter 33

.

_**STOP! **_

**If you have not read chapter 32 yet, please note that this is chapter 33! The FF site has been playing tricks on us all day - so make sure you read these in order! Otherwise it will not make sense!**

.

.

**OK...who is your favorite author? Perhaps me? Why, you might ask?**

**Because I posted this bonus chapter today at noon - See GUEST...you get your wish after all!**

**AND I will still post another chapter at midnight as well...so you get to find out everything in one 24 hour period. **

**This way you do not have to wait one more torturous day to find out what happened to Erik and Emily. However...I REALLY hope that you will take a few moments between them and send in reviews for each chapter telling me what you thought about it.**

**Looking forward to details.**

.

**Chapter 33**

**_London, England 1831_**

_._

_._

Amir had been devastated by the news, angry, hurt and swearing vengeance on William Radcliff. But soon his grief gave way to a resolute calm, as he prepared his mind to assist Erik in his daring rescue.

At his friend's request, Amir left that very night, riding the many leagues to Summercrest, in order to open up the now deserted mansion and get things ready for their arrival. Erik packed their belongings and checked out of the hotel, being none too secretive about the fact that he and Amir intended to return to Persia immediately. He sent his father a letter stating this and even posted one to Emily, wishing her well and telling her he would be sure to visit again when he was back in England. He prayed that Radcliff would intercept the letter so that his sister would never see it. The ruse was meant to deceive William, not break Emily's heart thinking her brother had abandoned her. He then purchased two one-way tickets to Persia, leaving a paper trail if anyone cared to check up on them and hid out in a cheap room for rent in the back of a bar. For all intents and purposes, Erik and Amir were long gone, hopefully causing Radcliff to drop his guard.

Erik prayed that Antoinette was able to watch over Emily like she promised. Erik had told her not to mention anything about the escape plan to his sister, for fear that Radcliff might extract the information from her under duress. For now the only ones who knew of their intentions was Amir, Antoinette and himself. Erik would do just as the housekeeper had instructed, sneaking in and taking Emily away before William came home from his poker game in two nights time. Erik knew he might have to subdue, or even kill, Radcliff's men who were paid to guard her but he did not care. He would kill a thousand men if it meant freeing his precious sister from that brute. Now he only had to wait.

The days passed painfully slow for Erik and he found himself tormented over what might happen to Emily before he got to her. Several times he had to literally force himself not to rush off and storm the house in a fit of rage. His temper was his worst failing and while Erik tried to curb it as best he could, it would flair up unexpectedly and almost drive him mad. It shamed Erik to know he had inherited that particular trait from his father, for his mother had been nothing but kind and gentle. Many times during his wait, his thoughts turned to her...

.

Lillian Morant had been beside herself with joy when she had found herself with child a second time, telling Erik over and over what a wonderful big brother he would be. He supposed he should have felt jealous of his new sibling; most children do, feeling that they were being replaced in their parent's affection. But ten year old Erik never did. He never doubted his mother's love and looked forward to having a baby brother or sister come fall. Cedric never did show much emotion and certainly never what he considered love, but Erik had to admit that his father did at least treat his mother in a kind fashion while she was carrying his child.

To the untrained eye, Erik's mother seemed healthy through the entire pregnancy, happily knitting booties and preparing the nursery for the moment the little one arrived. Yet after Emily was born, Erik knew from the way everyone was acting that something was not right. He had stayed up most of the night, waiting to hear if he had a baby brother or sister and when he heard the faint sounds of an infant crying, he expected that someone would come in and tell him the good news. Yet no one came.

The next day everyone around the mansion was subdued, whispering quietly and purposefully avoiding any eye contact with him. He asked several of the servants what was wrong but no one wished to be the one to break the news to the young boy. Finally, after hovering around his mother's bedroom door for hours, Erik was able to sneak in when his father and the doctor stepped out, heading to one of the sitting rooms to talk.

"Mother?" he called as he entered the darkened chamber. The shades were drawn and only a few candles were burning, leaving the usually cheery room gloomy and quiet.

"Erik, my love," he heard is mother call from the bed, her voice sounding weak. "Come and see your new sister."

"It is a girl then?" Erik asked, excited to finally learn the news. He approached the bed and stared at his mother, who was holding a tiny bundle in her arms.

"Yes, her name is Emily," Lillian smiled at her fine young son, the boy resembled his father very much, but he had inherited her eyes. The same eyes she had shared with her own father, and she knew that this one trait would ensure that Erik never forgot her. Emily on the other hand took after her in looks only, the two sharing the same nose, lips and chin, while the dark wisps of black hair appeared to come from her father's side. It was still too early to tell about her eyes, for the infant blue was still prevalent. Yet, while she hoped for her golden eyes to once more be passed on, she had a feeling they would instead turn dark like Cedric's. "Would you like to hold her?"

Erik was a bit nervous about this but nodded as he carefully crawled up on the bed and sat beside his mother. Very slowly she leaned forward, as if the deed took great effort and placed his sister into his waiting arms. Emily was so small, her face all scrunched up as she slept but her fingers twitched now and then as if she were having some kind of dream.

"Hello, little Emily," Erik whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her downy little head. "I am Erik, your brother." Emily did not seem impressed by this, and continued to sleep.

"Yes Erik, you are her big brother," Lillian agreed, tears coming to her eyes as she watched her two precious children. "And as her brother, you will need to watch out for her, protect her and keep her safe. Will you do that for me, Erik?"

"Yes, Mother, I will," Erik assured her, taking his new assignment very seriously.

"I know you will," she smiled.

Erik had stayed in the room only a few minutes more, holding his sister and talking with his mother before his father returned and forced him to leave. That was the last time he ever saw his beloved mother, for when he woke the following morning, he was informed that she had died during the night. Complications from birth, he was later told, but the reason did not matter, not to a broken-hearted, inconsolable child who had just lost the only parent who loved him.

Two days later Cedric had packed his bags and moved to their townhouse in London, having always preferred city life to the provincial ways of Summercrest. Not wishing to be bothered with the care of his own children, he left Erik and newborn Emily in the hands of his staff and a wet-nurse. Erik could not say he was sad to see him leave, for in truth he had never truly been _there_ to begin with.

It would be a long time before Erik smiled again, and even though he loved his little sister deeply, the empty hole left by the death of his mother plagued him for years to come.

.

As he pulled himself out of his thoughts, Erik wondered just how proud Lillian Morant would be of him today. Not very, if he was forced to guess. He had always done right by Emily, watching over her like he promised, but now…now he knew he had done nothing but failed her. If he had not gone to Persia none of this would have happened. While he was off enjoying himself with wine and women, his defenseless Emily was being sold off by their own father to ensure a business deal. He wondered why she had not written to him about this, or why their old nanny, Mrs. Baily, chose to keep silent as well. Surely the woman who had helped raise Emily would have notified him, had she been able. Someone had to have been aware of what had taken place and could have alerted him? But perhaps they _had_ tried, yet failed to locate him in time? Or what if his father had intercepted any letters meant for him, just as William had done with Emily's notes, destroying them before they even made it out of that damned house. No matter the reason, Erik still felt as if he had failed. Failed both his sister and his mother. He would not do so a second time, and swore that by the following day, he would see her free.

.

.

The moon was high when Erik slipped within the walls of the Radcliff grounds, keeping to the shadows as he crept towards the servant's entrance in the back. Antoinette said she would leave the door unlocked and do her best to keep any servants still on duty out of the way. She had told him that there were only one or two who were loyal to their employer, most of them blackmailed into service to him just as she was. Erik was not surprised to hear that the snooty butler was one of the few who might give him trouble and a part of him truly wished he would. Snapping that man's neck would take very little effort and leave him with few regrets.

As Erik turned the knob, the door gave way and he silently entered the home, cocking the pistol he had brought with him in case anyone gave him trouble. The kitchen was dark, the staff apparently having turned in for the night. Erik froze when he heard voices not far off and following the sound he saw two burly men standing in a small sitting room. These must be the goons that were paid to guard Emily, for they had the look of ignorant men hired only for their brawn, not their brain. The voice he had heard was that of Antoinette and a smile spread across his lips as he watched her set down a tray of tea and scones, expertly positioning the two guards in chairs with their backs towards the sitting room door. This provided Erik with the perfect opportunity to sneak by, heading down the hallway undetected. He knew he owed that woman a lot for all her help.

Following the mental layout Madam Giry had given him, Erik stole up the stairs and headed straight to the room where Emily was kept. He was grateful to hear that she was not forced to share a room with the vile man, that he preferred to retain his own quarters. His eyes had narrowed when Antoinette told him the reason why, for it was well known by all in the house that a steady stream of whores from the street and local brothels made their way through his bed. His anger blazed once more to think that his sister had been forced to lay with a man who valued her so little. He was not fit to lick the dust from Emily's boots and once he had her safely away, he swore he would return and rain down vengeance upon Radcliff's miserable head.

The door was locked, just as Antoinette said it would be, but the shiny key in his hand made quick work of that. As quietly as possible Erik entered the room, looking left and right as he tried to locate Emily. When he did, his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, for there she was, sitting on the floor, huddled in the corner of the room with her head down as she slowly rocked herself back and forth. She looked so little, so fragile, and nothing like the spirited girl who had teased and pestered him since she was old enough to speak. He dearly missed _that _girl.

"Emily," he whispered, coming over and crouching in front of her. "Emily…it is Erik."

The rocking stopped and she raised her head from off her knees to look up at him in shock. He could tell she had been crying, but thankfully he saw no signs of new bruises.

"Erik?" she said, in a tone that made him wonder if she truly believed he was there. So reaching out he touched her face gently.

"Yes, precious," he nodded. "I have come to take you home."

"Home?" the word was spoken like a prayer, making Erik's heart ache even more for her.

"Yes, we are going home to Summercrest," Erik assured her. "And I will take care of you just like I used to. Amir will be there as well, he is very anxious to see you."

"Amir?" her eyes filled with tears once more at the mention of his name. "No, I can't see Amir…not now…not ever! Not after what…"

"Amir loves you and that is all he cares about," Erik told her firmly, reaching for her hands as he pulled her to her feet. "We will fix it so that you are free from this farce of a marriage and then you and Amir can be together just like you always planned."

They had made it to the door by this time, Emily following him like a dazed animal, hypnotized by the sound of his calm and soothing voice. But the moment he went to open the door she pulled back.

"No, I can't leave!" she hissed, still keeping her voice low but her tone was adamant. "If I leave he will know…he will find me and he will…will…"

"He will not find you! And he will never hurt you again!" Erik swore, this time not taking no for an answer as he pulled her to his side and escorted her stiffening body out the door.

"Please Erik, William will kill you if he finds you here," she whispered, her eyes as wide as saucers. "He is evil, and he will not think twice about doing so."

"I brought a little insurance policy with me to make sure that does not happen," Erik told her, pulling the pistol out of his pocket in an attempt to ease her mind. This seemed to calm her a bit and they made it down the stairs and around the corner, taking the same path out that had led him in. He could see their goal in the distance, the kitchen door, when a voice from behind them caused him to stop in his tracks and spin around.

"And just where do you think you are going, my pet?" William Radcliff asked, standing in the entry way with his arms crossed over his chest and a menacing look on his face. "Did you not learn your lesson the last time you thought you could leave me?" He left the threat hanging in the air as he turned his eyes on Erik, a smile of pure evil touching his lips. "Ahhh, I see my brother-in-law has returned for another visit, and so soon too. Could it be my sparkling personality and my witty charm that brought you back?"

Without answering him, Erik stepped forward, eager to wrap his hands around the man's throat and squeeze till the light drained from his eyes. But the moment he did, Radcliff raised his hand and four large men stepped through the doorway to his left, flanking their boss protectively. Erik still held the gun in his hand and the chances were good that he could take out two, maybe even three before they might overpower him. However, he would rather not risk a stray bullet hitting Emily, should he be forced to fire. Erik maneuvered his terrified sister around behind him, keeping himself between her and that devil.

"Emily and I are leaving here tonight and there is nothing you can do to stop us," Erik informed him bravely. "So unless you would like to be the first man I put a bullet through, I would suggest you let us go peacefully."

"Oh but this will never do," Radcliff said with a shake of his head. "I cannot simply let a thief break into my home and run off with my most prized possession."

"Emily is no one's possession!" Erik argued. "She is a free woman, able to choose where she goes and who she wishes to be with."

"That is where you are wrong," Radcliff barked back. "She is my property, just as much as the prized brood mare I keep in the stables. And if you do not want to see what it is I do to common horse thieves, then you best lower that gun of yours and give me back my wife."

"She will not spend another night under this roof!" Erik began to ease them backwards, inching his way to the door. He wanted nothing more than to rush William and pound his fist into the man's face until he was a bloody mess. He would show Radcliff exactly how it felt to be on the receiving end of what he had done to his sister.

"Again…you are quite wrong," William chuckled, a sound that caused shivers to run up and down Erik's spine.

There was something about the way he said those words that left Erik uneasy, like Radcliff knew things that he did not. And the sound of a floorboard creaking behind him told him exactly what that was…unfortunately it was too late. Emily screamed just as Erik turned, the wooden club making contact with his head before he could even think of pulling the trigger to stop him. A shooting pain surged through his body seconds before he lost consciousness. Radcliff had won.

.

.

Erik slowly came to, blinking his eyes as he did his best to drive away the splitting pain in his head. His right temple was damp and sticky and he guessed that he had bled quite a lot in order for it to feel that way. When he was able to focus better he surveyed his surroundings and deduced that he was in some basement or cellar, for the place was dark and musty smelling, with no windows and only one door. His hands were bound in front of him and he was lying on a cold stone floor, the only other discernible object in the room was a large metal trunk off to his right.

Thoughts of Emily quickly filled his mind and he struggled to get up, desperate to find her and get her to safety. Yet the pain in his head left the room spinning and he was only able to rise as far as his knees before he was halted by the pain. He had just caught his breath and was going to try again when the lone door creaked open and Erik watched as Radcliff and three of his goons entered the room.

"So you didn't die from that blow after all," William sounded amazed by this, leaving Erik to wonder just how bad off he was. "My little pet will be so pleased to hear this."

"You leave Emily out of this," Erik growled, quickly regretting his harsh tone when his temple throbbed mercilessly. "Your fight is with me, not her."

"Still, I think it would do her heart good to see that you are still alive…for now." William then snapped his fingers and one of his men disappeared back out the door. "Get him up," he ordered.

The remaining two men stepped forward and hoisted Erik to his feet, then wrenched his arms above his head and hooked the thick ropes binding his wrists over a metal hook suspended from the ceiling. The height was just enough so that Erik was left supporting himself on the tips of his toes, unable to get any leverage to lift himself back off. He felt very much like a deer hanging in a butcher shop, ready for the slaughter. He strained at his bonds, feeling them cut into his skin as he did but he had to try. Radcliff walked forward, circling him like a lion, patiently waiting for his prey to tire before going in for the kill. Erik did not care for the feeling at all.

"I take umbrage to the fact that you came into my home and tried to take what is mine," William told him as he maneuvered back around to face him. "How fortuitous my card game was cut short last night, bringing me home just in time to witness my little wife's betrayal. And here I had come to believe she and I had finally reached an understanding," he gave a sad shake of his head. "It would appear that a few more lessons are in order before she realizes her place."

"Don't you dare touch her!" Erik roared, desperately pulling at the ropes that held him fast.

"I shall do as I please!" Radcliff threatened, his face becoming the picture of evil. "But first…first I plan on teaching _you_ a lesson. A lesson in manners… and pain. I am curious to see what kind of student you are."

Erik was about to spit in the man's face, when the door reopened and the goon returned, this time with Emily. She appeared to be physically unharmed, but from the look on her face, Erik began to fear for her sanity. The sight of him strung up before her probably did little to ward off her terror, or the tears that ran unceasingly down her cheeks. This was far more than any young girl of seventeen should have to endure, and Erik wondered just how much more she could take.

"Erik!" she cried racing forward, attempting to reach him. But Radcliff stopped her short by grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her back with a cry as he forced her down to her knees beside him. Her fingers dug at his hand, trying to release his painful grip, but it was no use. Erik gave a strangled cry, out of his mind with anger and worry for his poor sister.

"Now, my pet," William began, taking his eyes off of Erik as he addressed his frightened wife. "I warned you what would happen if you attempted to solicit your brother in any way for help. I told you that I would make _him_ pay for your sins, and I am nothing if not a man of my word."

"Please, no!" she cried, looking up at Erik with all the sorrow of the world mirrored in her eyes. "Leave him alone, I am to blame…only me."

"Oh I doubt that. However, rest assured, you will receive the proper punishment for your crimes as well." He then released his hold on her, watching as she fell forward, her hands supporting her as she sobbed bitterly. "Soon you will come to accept that your continued existence relies solely on your ability to obey your husband in all matters."

Emily raised her head, looking at Erik for a moment before turning towards William, grabbing hold of his pant legs in a pleading gesture.

"I can be a good wife!" she cried, desperation permeating her voice. "I swear that I can be a good wife for you! Tell me what you want, and I will do it. Just please, don't kill my brother. Please don't take Erik away from me…he is all I have left."

Radcliff studied her for a moment before squatting down in front of her, prying her hands from his clothing, and then lifting her chin up so she could stare into his dead and lifeless eyes.

"That is not true, my pet," he assured her. "You will always have me." And standing up so quickly that it caused Emily to fall backwards, he snapped his fingers and gestured for the henchman to take her away. The burly man hoisted her up and dragged her from the room, all the while she continued screaming at William to let her brother live and that she would be a good and proper wife to him if he did.

Erik's mind was in a frenzy, his body twisted and turned, bucking and kicking as he fought the madness that invaded his mind. He had to escape, he had to kill Radcliff and he had to save Emily. His struggles ceased when a powerful blow to his midsection took the wind out of him, along with it most of his fight. He would have been bent over in pain if his bonds would have allowed it, yet all he could do was hang there gasping for the air that had been stolen from him.

"That is quite enough of that," William chided, rubbing his knuckles as if the punch had caused him pain. Erik hoped he had broken every bone in his hand in the delivery, but no such luck. "Now…I am not the forgiving type, and you have wronged me quite severely. However, I am also a very frugal man, one who does not overlook an opportunity to turn a little profit."

"Do…do you expect me…to pay you for our freedom?" Erik spat, still hardly able to draw breath from the debilitating blow. "Or if you think…our father would pay some kind of ransom for me…then you are sadly mistaken."

"Oh no, I do not think anything of the sort," Radcliff laughed. "Your father made it all too clear exactly what he thinks of you, and from what I have observed, he thinks even less of your sister. So while I am not foolish enough to inform him of my plans, I have no delusions that he will make any heroic attempt to save you. And as long as he is left in the dark, where he obviously prefers to be, I see no reason why Cedric Morant would interfere with the plans I intend for the two of you."

Erik was puzzled by his words; they made very little sense, especially if all Radcliff intended on doing was killing him. He watched as his captor walked over to the metal trunk against the wall and very slowly opened the lid. It revealed an array of well-kept and cleaned tools, each one laid out neatly in the bottom or strapped to the lid. It did not take Erik long to realize exactly what this sadistic man used them for. This was no basement…_it was a torture chamber_.

"So that is your game then," Erik seethed.

"Oh I assure you, this is no game," Radcliff replied, lifting a thick leather bullwhip from the trunk, running his hands over it thoughtfully. "I take this very seriously. To me, this is a form of art, one I have spent years perfecting. And you, my poor fellow, you shall serve as my canvas."

Radcliff now stood in front of Erik, bringing the braided strap up and running it across his cheek in a playful fashion. Erik wrenched his head away, remaining as defiant and calm as he possibly could, as he fought to keep down the panic that was welling up inside of him.

"And exactly how will torturing me to death be of any profit to you?" Erik asked, pretty much stalling for time.

"Well now, allow me to explain," Radcliff mused. "You see, over the years I have met a number of interesting characters and made many powerful friends. One of these just happens to be the owner of a gypsy carnival, just over the border in Italy. They do move around from time to time but I can easily locate him when necessary. His forms of entertainment and exhibits border on the sick and macabre, and when I am finished with you, I have no doubt that he will be quite eager to put you on display with his other freaks. And if not, well, he is always looking for a strong back and a weak mind to slave away in the background." Radcliff released a sinister laugh and began to uncoil the whip. "However, I have complete faith in my skills and thoroughly believe he will be more than satisfied with my handy work. Now…if you would please hold still, I intend to enjoy every moment of this creative process."

**~XXX~**

"And I believe he did just that," Erik finished quietly, sneaking a glance at Christine's face as he once more paused in his story. The two had finished their dinner some time ago and had returned to the comfort of the bed, Erik leaning back against the headboard as he cradled his wife against his side. During his tale he had wrapped his arms around her tightly, as if her presence was the only thing keeping him grounded in the here and now and not lost within the madness of the past. But when he looked down at her and saw the disbelief and anguish in her eyes, he feared he might have gone into far too much detail for her gentle mind to take. He suddenly feared that his past might yet claim the sanity of another innocent victim. He quickly sat up and turned her face to him, rubbing her cheek with his thumb as he spoke softly to her. "Christine, speak to me…please say something," he pleaded. Yet what she said next shocked him speechless.

"That sick, twisted bastard!" she almost shouted in her anger, while tears of compassion for her husband's plight continued to slide down her cheeks. "How could he do such a thing? And oh my darling Erik, how could you have borne it?" She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest.

Erik gave a sigh of relief. He had not lost her; she was still sound and whole. His innocent daisy had deep roots, and she would not wither from a little scorching heat.

"I really did not have much choice in the matter, now did I?" he replied, a bit flippantly perhaps, but it was easier to be sarcastic than to dwell on the horrible memory too deeply. "Yet through it all, the only thing I could think was, that as long as he was doing that to me, he was not hurting Emily. And I would have gladly endured any abuse he dreamed up, if it meant sparing her."

"Is that why you refuse to show me your body?" Christine asked, pulling back as she ran her hand gently over his torso, even now feeling him flinch at her touch. "Are you ashamed of what I will see?"

"I…I am terrified of your reaction should you ever behold the disaster that I am now forced to call my flesh," Erik lamented, lowering his head in shame. "A beautiful thing such as you deserves a husband she can be proud of, not one she is ashamed to look upon."

"Erik Morant, I have never been more proud of anyone in my life!" she scolded, her face growing stern with determination. "What you did for your sister is beyond admirable! To think that you risked everything to ensure her safety makes me love you even more and I could never…_never_, be ashamed of you. I will love you no matter what scars you bear and I will treat each and every one of them for what they truly are, a sign of your courage and compassion!" She reached up to grasp his top button once again, her eyes pleading with him for permission. "Show them to me, my love, and let me prove to you my words are true."

Erik hesitated for only a moment more before he nodded his head in agreement, shaking slightly as she slowly undid each button, revealing more and more of his flesh to her loving gaze. Once his shirt was completely unfastened in the front, Christine pushed the fabric away, sliding it off his shoulders as he pulled his arms free, leaving him completely exposed to her.

Christine took her time, allowing her gaze to memorize every mark and scar that riddled his flesh like a road map of misery. When her eyes had beheld all there was to see on his chest, she eased her way around him and began her study of his back. She could not even count the number of painful looking welts and crisscrossed scars that littered his skin, a testament to his strength and will to survive. How he lived through all this, she would never understand, but she knew that Emily's safety had been the driving force behind it.

"Oh…Erik," was all she could bring herself to say without bursting into tears. "Oh my sweet, sweet, Erik."

Before he could even respond, he felt her lips as they made contact with his back, kissing her way down each red line and raised patch of flesh. Oh it was sweet heaven. To feel her acceptance of his mangled body through such a delicate act was not only cleansing, but erotic as hell. Her fingers soon followed her lips and he could not help but release a low moan of pleasure at her ministrations. She was quickly bringing him to the height of desire and he knew he must put a stop to this before he became overwhelmed, taking her swiftly then and there. For there was one last thing he needed to tell her…one last piece of the puzzle he had to expose before he could at last claim her as his wife with a clear conscience. He had to broach the subject of his face and what had transpired as a result of it. His confession must be complete if he was ever to put his fears to rest.

"Christine…please…" he gasped, not wanting to halt her kisses, but knowing he must. "Please stop…I need to finish my tale…and then…then if you still wish to continue this, I will be your willing slave."

He felt her stop, resting the side of her cheek against his back as she let her arms slide around him in a comforting gesture.

"I have heard all I need to hear and nothing you could say would possibly change my opinion of you, my love," she assured him. "But if you feel you need to purge your mind of this painful memory, I will listen. Just know this…I love you now and I always will."

Erik gave a sigh of relief as he pulled her around and laid her across his lap, cradling her in his arms like he would a baby. The feel of her so close against his exposed flesh, not to mention her words of love, gave him strength. Thus, spurred on by her tender assurance, Erik opened his mouth to finish his sad story.

.

.

**Oh dear...I hope that anyone who was once upset with Erik has now fully forgiven him after hearing what he went through. Our poor boy! Sorry if I made anyone sad.**

**I really hope this Chapter came through all right - the FF site has been having issues for the past few days and for some reason it says I never posted last night's chapter...but I got plenty of reviews from people who read it...so I KNOW I did! I hope it gets fixed soon and this chapter showed up at noon as a bonus posting like I intended it to.**

**More tonight at Midnight! Oh, but first...Please take a few moments and review?**


End file.
